Moments
by ChristianGateFan
Summary: Life is remembered in moments. The ones we hold on to are preserved for a reason. 2014: Everything is great for everyone post-series, until a disaster in the Lassiter family brings the gang back to Santa Barbara to help. 2030: Something else gone wrong, but it's the memories of moments and the families we make that get us through. Warning: Character death/s.
1. Chapter 1

First Psych fic! Been working on a novel (finally!) and haven't written any fanfic in forever and I finished Psych a couple of months ago and couldn't resist. Psych is amazing. And Timothy Omundson is amazing. I mean they're all amazing but he's my favorite. I am now watching Judging Amy. I'm also babbling.

Anyway, pretty much nothing but canon 'ships and friendships here. The bulk of it takes place not too long post-series. Just a bit in the future.

I hope you enjoy! I can't wait to hear from you, and please do let me know how I'm doing since these are new characters for me. Thanks so much!

* * *

Moments

 _Life is remembered in moments. The ones we hold on to are preserved for a reason, whether we know the reason or not. The best moments, the worst, the funniest, the most outrageous, the most boring, the most beautiful. There are no particular qualifications. Sometimes the moments we remember are stuck in our minds because they're nothing more than typical. The perfect normal day. The perfect awful day. The unremarkable day. The day something changed, or the day it didn't. The day we realized something new. Pictures of the way things were to hold against the image of the way they are now. Pictures that show us things we may not have known then._

July 2030

The house was packed to the gills, but no one could tell Carlton where Juliet was. He thought about leaving, about getting away from the crush of black-clothed people. He could call later. He knew she was stubborn, so he thought about giving up and leaving her be for now.

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

He couldn't give up, of course. Karen Vick was the one to finally point him in the direction of the master bathroom.

"How long has she been in there?" he asked.

"Going on an hour, I'm thinking."

If she was hiding anyway he couldn't see the point in knocking, but when he went to just turn the knob he found the door locked.

"Juliet?" He knocked. "I know you're in there. Open the door." There was no response, and he pounded harder. "Juliet! Juliet Spencer!"

"Go _away_ , Carlton!"

"Like hell. You've got a house full of people out here; you know that, right?"

"I said GO AWAY!"

"What are you, sixteen? We need you out here; you're the only one who can keep Strode from eating all the mints." He made a face, took a breath, called upon times past, and pounded on the bathroom door once more. "O'HARA! Open this door!"

It swung open before he could bring his fist down again. Juliet was in the doorway, holding the knob and glaring up at him. She was breathing hard and her mascara was running. The glaring didn't last long once she was looking at him.

"Carlton…"

Then she was crying again.

He sighed and pushed into the bathroom with her. He closed the door behind them and pulled her into his chest.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I-I thought I could do this today. I can't..."

"Don't apologize..."

She didn't anymore. For a while the only sounds were her crying and the sniffing and the gasping, until it was only the sniffing and the uneven breaths. She tried to pull away and he wouldn't let her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

He almost smiled. She almost laughed.

"I'll be fine, Carlton. You probably need to get home. You don't have to stay..."

He took her by the shoulders and maneuvered her back just enough to look her in the eyes. "Yes, I do. Come on, Juliet, you were there fifteen years ago. I'm not leaving now."

For a long moment she just looked at him. But when she stopped staring, she nodded, and ducked back into his chest.

"If everything happens for a reason, what about this time?" Juliet asked after a while.

She was the one to say it, so long ago now, but he didn't remind her.

It was the moment Carlton realized he didn't know the answer.

* * *

April 2014

"Ok, so I still know _nothing_ about San Francisco, which means you're gonna have to tell me where we're going," Shawn told Juliet, leaning in the bathroom doorway.

"You haven't memorized the entire city yet?" She smirked in the mirror as she put the finishing touches on her hair. "You think I know much more? I've only been here a few months, _most_ of it spent working."

"All work and no play, Jules…"

"Hush. We've been trying to get this precinct off the ground, and the hard work's paid off. Our arrest record is fantastic now."

Shawn thrust his arms out in an 'obviously' sort of pose. "Well of _course_ it is. They've got you, and I've never known a prettier head detective."

She leaned over for a quick kiss. "Thanks, Shawn, but that has nothing to do with my record. Anyway, tonight I thought we'd...I don't know...wing it."

"That's my Jules! You're learning."

Out in the hallway Gus stopped, saw them dressed for their Friday evening, and poked his head in around Shawn to pout. "What about me?"

"Gus, don't be a wet blanket third wheel burrito," Shawn scolded.

"There's leftover lasagna in the refrigerator," Juliet offered.

As much as she loved them both, she hoped Gus found a job here soon and got his own place. Having both of them in her apartment had worked out fine enough for the two weeks since they showed up here—there was a second bedroom for Gus to crash in—but even though Shawn wasn't bothered by any of it, an unemployed Burton Guster was no fun for anyone.

By now she was alone with her thoughts, because Gus had gone off to find the lasagna and Shawn had followed him. He seemed suddenly captivated by the idea of a plate of pasta as a precursor to dinner.

Juliet expected to hear the bickering coming from the kitchen, but she did not expect to hear a knock on the door. She didn't worry about it—Shawn could handle it—but it was strange. She listened as she slid a clip into her updo, running curiously through the possibilities of door-to-door this or that and other things. None of her ideas would have involved the amount of noise in the entry when Shawn answered the door. More than one voice, and finally Shawn's rising above the rest.

"Jules! It's an invasion!"

Her instincts taking over, she dropped everything and hurried from the bathroom. She was on the balls of her feet in the hallway trying to decide whether to duck back to the bedroom for her firearm when Juliet realized she recognized a deep voice that was not Shawn or Gus.

She grinned, rolled her eyes and made her way to the living room in her stocking feet.

"O'Hara! Thank god; there you are."

"Carlton! What are you doing here?"

Juliet sidled past her excitable fiance and his best friend to hug her own best friend. He was much better at it than he used to be, in general. This time, though, she had to get on tiptoes and go for his neck to get around the several month old baby on his hip.

Baby. Carlton's baby.

"Oh my gosh!" Juliet released her former partner and dropped back down on her heels to hold out her arms imploringly. "This must be Lily!"

The proud father handed over his daughter without argument, grinning that grin that at times in the past had made Juliet wonder why it was Shawn she fell for. "Lily, this your Aunt Juliet," he was saying to the baby.

"Awww….hi, Lily! And of course you have your dad's eyes. Carlton, she is so _cute_!"

"Of course she is. She's her mother's daughter." Marlowe was at Lassiter's elbow, giving Shawn and Gus looks and trying not to look like a deer in headlights, but at her husband's comment and the arm he looped around her shoulders she relaxed and smiled.

"Hey!" Shawn protested. "If Jules gets to be an aunt, I get to be an uncle!"

"No you don't, Spencer."

"You don't get a say, Lassie. When Jules and I are married and legal and have done all of the legal _things_ , it'll be automatic. I'll be an uncle, and if I'm an uncle Gus is an uncle. Which makes my dad a great uncle. And maybe Gus's dad. And what about poor Woody? Doesn't _he_ get to be an uncle? You did sleep with the man. Either way, Lily will never run out of uncles."

"I was on that couch first! Spencer, if you don't shut—What?" Carlton stopped and spun on Juliet. "O'Hara! Please don't tell me you're _marrying_ this nitwit!"

She answered by shifting Lily to her hip and holding up her left hand. Lassiter stared at the ring, sputtered a bit, and finally scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. "Well, I suppose it was inevitable…"

"Shawn's going to get a stern talking-to later, isn't he?" Juliet whispered in amusement.

"Oh, you bet your ass he is," Carlton smirked back quietly. He seemed to be positively looking forward to it.

"Back to why you're here?" Juliet asked at normal volume.

Lassiter's eyebrows went up at that. "Right! Yes. Well, remember, O'Hara, you sent that-that email, with your new address, saying we were welcome any time, and you couldn't wait to meet Lily—"

"Carlton, I sent that e-mail two months ago! I meant it, but that was before I had Shawn and Gus here and I still had an extra room. And as much as I'm glad to see you, with that sort of invitation it's generally sort of implied you should still _call_ first."

"Aaand I was going to, but then I thought it could be a surprise."

She wished she could put at least one hand on a hip, but Lily was moving too much and playing with the bits of hair framing Juliet's face that weren't held up by clips. It was ridiculously cute, and it was becoming far too hard to pretend to be angry.

Well. She _was_ a little frustrated, but anyway.

"Meaning you forgot to call," Juliet deadpanned.

"No! Of course not. I-I mean...it's possible."

"It takes five hours to drive here; you couldn't have called when you remembered?"

"That...was about twenty minutes ago," Lassiter mumbled finally.

Thankfully Marlowe seemed more amused than mortified. "It's okay," she said, pulling on Lassiter's elbow. "We can get a hotel—"

"No, no, of course not," Juliet cut in quickly. "Just giving him hard time. That's my job. Of course you're staying here!"

Shawn clapped Gus on the shoulder. "Sorry, buddy. Looks like you're sleeping on the couch this weekend."

Gus looked a little green. "Fine. But we're changing the sheets after they leave."

"Gus!" Juliet hissed.

"Gus!" Shawn echoed in mock horror. "What Chief Lassie and his lawfully wedded wife get up to in the nighttime is their own business."

"Just telling it like it is, Shawn," Gus answered, shameless.

Carlton looked eager to move on. "Good!" he said. "I appreciate it, O'Hara. Of course, we're here because I promised I'd bring my wife to San Francisco, but hopefully we can all find time to do something as a group...perhaps. Sightseeing...or something."

"Sightseeing? Since when do you sightsee?" Gus questioned.

"Since I have a wife and a child and family responsibilities, Guster," Lassiter snapped.

"Liar!" Shawn called out. He had a finger to his eyebrow. "I'm sensing something, Lassie. I'm sensing that _you_ are a _liar_."

Lassiter didn't dignify that with an answer. He just glared.

Shawn made the high-pitched little moan he sometimes made when pretending to snap out of a psychic episode, dropped his arm, and grinned goofily. Of course, Juliet doubted anyone in the room still thought Shawn was actually psychic, unless Marlowe did, but by now his antics were just him.

" _Lassie_ , you're not here because you promised Marlowe _anything_. You _missed_ us!"

"Shut up, Spencer."

"Sure, maybe you missed me and Jules more than you missed Gus, but you did. You totally missed us, Lassie." Shawn opened his arms wide. "It's ok. We're here, and we understand. Let's hug it out."

"If I missed anyone, I missed O'Hara," Lassiter groused. "And I'm perfectly entitled to do that; she's been gone longer."

"Aw, thanks partner," Juliet interjected. Carlton gave her a brief smile and then went right back to glaring at the boys.

"We love you too, man!" Shawn elbowed Gus. "Tell Lassie you love him, Gus."

Gus made a smacking sound and crossed his arms. "You must be out of your damn mind. I'm not telling him that."

Lassiter rolled his eyes, but she caught the smile he quickly squashed. "O'Hara, corral your children."

"Fine, if you take yours back," Juliet agreed. "I love her already, but she's heavy." Carlton reached to take Lily, but in the exchange Shawn swooped between them and took her.

"Baby snatching! Uncles get time too!" he called.

"Spencer!" Carlton shouted. He charged across the living room after Shawn. "Unhand my daughter!"

"Only if you admit you missed us, Lassie!"

Gus followed them, and Juliet sighed and sidled up next to Marlowe. "So...you realize, with those three together all weekend...it's basically you, me, and four kids."

Marlowe shrugged. "I'm aware. I can handle it if you can."

Juliet laughed and rocked back on her heels. "Carlton missed us, didn't he?"

"You think this was _my_ idea?"

Then they were both laughing.

It was the moment Juliet realized that just as much as Shawn—and, apparently, Gus—would be, Carlton Lassiter would always be a part of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for the comments!

Chapter 2

April 2014

Saturday night turned into movie night at Juliet's, but Shawn didn't miss Lassiter slipping out in the middle of the second Clint Eastwood movie. Seeing as Lassiter would never bail on Eastwood, this was a red flag to Shawn.

He waited a bit before following, not wanting to be too obvious, and found Lassiter out on the balcony just putting his cell phone away. He made no move to come back inside after that, and didn't even seem to notice Shawn was there.

That wasn't normal at all. As much as Shawn hated to admit it, Lassiter was usually on top of things like that.

"What's going on, Lassie?"

Lassiter started, but recovered quickly. "What do you want, Spencer?"

"I want to know what's up; didn't I just ask that?"

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, which is totally why you're here in a rented car, you keep checking your phone every five seconds, and you've been glued to Marlowe and Lily like...you know, glue."

"Spencer—"

"And let's face it; I could spot nervous ticks on a _stranger_ a mile away, and I've known _you_ eight years."

Lassiter glared at him briefly. "No pretense anymore, then?"

Shawn waggled a finger near his eyebrow for a second. "What, this? Come on, you and I both know—"

Lassiter held up a hand. "Stop. You're an idiot, you know that? If I'd finished watching that damn video do you have _any_ idea how much trouble you would have been in? I can't just let things _slide_ , Spencer. I'm the _chief of police_ now."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I had to throw it away! Plausible deniability, Spencer."

"Aww. See, Lassie? You do care," Shawn grinned.

"Shut up."

Shawn let his grin drop and shrugged. "No, _you_ stop changing the subject and tell me what's got your panties in a twist." Lassiter just rolled his eyes, leaned into the railing and looked out into the night. "Lassie…"

"Salamatchia escaped from prison."

Shawn blinked. "What?"

Lassiter looked back over his shoulder. "Salamatchia. Escaped. From. Prison."

"Salamatchia the guy who tried to killed you like three times in two days four or five years ago Salamatchia? That guy?"

"That'd be the one."

"Oh." Shawn grimaced and found a deck chair to drop into. "Oh."

Lassiter let out a breath and scrubbed at his face. "Yeah."

"But he was…like...an old guy."

"An old guy who used to be special forces. Not _that_ old, either. And he didn't do it alone; it was him and two others. That was Brannigan on the phone. They've found the other two and taken them back into custody, but Salamatchia's still out there. He split off and the other two supposedly have no idea where he went."

"Look, man, if you guys need to stick around longer—"

Lassiter shook his head. "No, that's all right. They've been keeping an eye on the condo, your old house, _and_ where I was living at the time, in case he tries something. We figure he would have by now if he was going to. He hasn't surfaced. Besides, I'd rather not be gone any longer than I have to be."

Shawn couldn't help smirking at that, and he leaned over his elbows on his knees. "How much convincing did it take to get you to leave town at all?"

Lassiter's gaze strayed to the glass balcony doors. The blinds obstructed the view of the living room, but they both knew his family was on the other side. "Not as much as you'd think."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay longer?" Shawn asked.

"I'll discuss it with my wife, but she wasn't entirely keen on running away, either. If it was just the two of us..."

"Yeah. So Marlowe knows everything, then."

"Of course she does, Spencer!" Lassiter answered, suddenly heated. "I aim to _protect_ the woman I love; not keep her ignorant." It came out more vehement than Shawn really thought appropriate, and then the dots connected.

"Whoa...we're not just talking about Salamatchia anymore, are we? Or maybe we never were. Or we swung back around. Something of that nature."

"It was entirely your fault when you and O'Hara went your separate ways last year, wasn't it?" Lassiter questioned, as if remembering an argument he'd meant to have a long time ago.

"I'm getting whiplash here, Lassie. And I don't think that's any of your business. But if it makes you feel any better, yes, of course it was. But we're fine now. She knows everything, and we're fine. Totally fine. Great. Fantastic. Re: _getting married_."

Lassiter advanced on him anyway, stabbing a finger at his chest, and Shawn scrambled up out of the deck chair and backed into a potted plant. "I warned you not to hurt her."

"Then why didn't you freak out on me a year ago when I actually did that! Geez, man!"

"Because I was a newlywed in a blissful state of happiness and I didn't have time for your _nonsense_ then, Spencer, but right now I'm upset as it is. You're just a convenient target. You're also planning to _marry_ my former partner and current closest friend, and I cannot allow that to happen without making certain you've had the fear of God stamped into that skittish brain of yours."

Shawn threw up his hands. "Okay! Fear of God stamped, Lassie. Big brand. Right there on my brain."

"My previous threat still stands. If you hurt her in any way, I will shoot you."

"Yes. Repeatedly. I remember. Duly noted."

Lassiter nodded and took a step back. Shawn raised his eyebrows and batted away the potted tree he'd been run into. "So that was my talking-to?"

"It'll have to do for now."

"Fine. And if you're going back to Santa Barbara tomorrow, at least keep us posted, ok?"

"Fine," Lassiter agreed. "Just don't tell O'Hara anything about it until we've gone; she'll try to make us stay."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine." Everything was quiet for a moment or two after that, until Shawn spoke again. "You really threw it away?"

"You didn't give me a choice, did you?"

"Did you at least listen to the rest _before_ I got to the—?"

"Yes."

Shawn shifted on his feet awkwardly. Lassiter's hands were already on his hips and he was doing the pointedly-staring-nowhere-in-particular thing.

"Right. Good," Shawn said. "That means this is weird now. I'm gonna...go inside."

Lassiter cleared his throat. "Sounds good."

So Shawn went, but then he stuck his head back out briefly. "You still missed us."

"I will throw something at you."

* * *

May 2014

Three weeks passed, and Lassiter kept his promise. Every evening at precisely 4:55 PM Shawn and Juliet both received an email telling them that nothing had changed-Salamatchia had not been found-but everything was under control and there was nothing to be concerned about. It was literally the same email, forwarded to both of them every day, with the last sentence promising that the formula would change if anything in Santa Barbara changed. On the weekends they called for details.

By the the time the third weekend was upon them Shawn was antsy. Friday morning he tracked his best friend into the kitchen, interrupting him in the middle of his cereal.

"Hey, Gus, so you remember how we planned to go back and finish packing up your place next weekend before your lease is up?"

"Yeah. And?"

"We're not waiting. We're leaving now."

Gus protested, waving his spoon in the air. "Shawn, I have _two_ interviews this coming week I have to prepare for. I'm not going anywhere."

"You'll be back for them! The first one's what, Thursday?"

"Tuesday. _Morning_."

"Fine. Whatever. You'll be back!"

"Why do you want to go now?"

"Because we can. Don't want to cut it too close, do you? Responsibility and...all that."

Gus narrowed his eyes. "You want in on finding Salamatchia, don't you?"

"What? No! I mean if we're in town and I happen to gather some information on how the case is going...or come across a lead...well, hey, I won't complain."

"I knew it!"

"Come on, Gus. You know you want to."

"I want no such thing." He went back to eating his cereal. But Shawn stared him down, and finally he paused again. "It is kind of...concerning, that they haven't found him yet."

"My point exactly."

Gus rolled his eyes. "Shawn, Lassie has Brannigan. If _she_ hasn't found Salamatchia yet, he's probably not even in the area anymore. And if there was any evidence of where he's gone, she'd have found _that_ by now too."

"She not _that_ good." Gus gave him a 'really?' look. "Ok maybe she is…"

"You know that's right. We'd have been out of a job if we stayed in Santa Barbara, and you know it! What do you expect to find she couldn't?"

Shawn smacked the counter. "Gus! Just…okay? Please? It's Lassie."

"If the guy's run off somewhere I doubt he cares about Lassiter anymore."

"Well we have to pack your stuff _anyway_..."

"I thought the original plan for next weekend was to _pretend_ we were packing ourselves, hire someone instead, and play video games all weekend."

"We'll still hire someone else; we'll just be investigating instead of playing video games. Just as fun, right?" Shawn paused. "No. Wait. I have a better idea."

That was when Jules emerged from the hallway, ready for work. "What better idea? Carlton will know what you're up to the second you hit town. He's probably wondering why you haven't shown up in Santa Barbara yet as it is."

"I'll figure it out," Shawn insisted. "Why don't you come with us? Lassie would be much happier to see _you_ and besides, Jules, you can't tell me you don't want to be all over this."

She made a face and sat down at the counter across from Gus, who handed her an empty bowl and pushed the milk and cereal box at her. "Of course I do."

"Want us to wait until you're off today?"

"I still haven't agreed to this," Gus put in.

Jules sighed and shook her head, quickly pouring herself a bowl of cereal. "I couldn't come anyway," she said between bites. "The chief just called; it looks like we've got a big case. I am _inhaling_ this cereal and then I've got to go."

"Me and Gus it is then. You've got your department car; can we borrow yours?" Shawn asked. They'd already sent back the driver's ed car, seeing as Gus didn't want to be arrested.

Jules's phone went off. She checked it, groaned, and abandoned her half-eaten breakfast. Shawn followed her into the entryway, where she collected her work keys and tossed the keys from her personal car in his direction. "As long as you promise to find the guy," she said, flashing him a knowing smile. "Keep me posted, and be careful."

Shawn didn't let her out the door without a proper kiss, and once she'd kissed him she held on a little too tightly, just a little too long. Enough for him to notice.

"Whoa. Hey. We'll be fine, Jules."

She let go and shook her head, confused. "I know. Sorry. Bad feeling all of a sudden…"

"No bad feelings allowed. Now you go catch your bad guy, and we'll go catch ours."

"I still haven't agreed to this!" Gus called from the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sorry this took a while! Real life and work and such, and been rewriting a few recent chapters of the real life project, lol. But this chapter is about twice as long to apologize. ANYhoo, I'm so happy ya'll are excited about this story - even though there will be sad parts - because I'm excited too. I love these characters so much. (I promise, I do. All of them. No matter what I do to them. Really. Just stick with me here, haha.)

So anyway, thanks again for the wonderful reviews. I couldn't do this without ya'll.

* * *

Chapter 3

May 2014

Between stopping too often for food and pit stops, checking on Gus's place first, and calling around to find out who they could pay the least to pack everything up and move it to a storage unit-not to mention finding the cheapest climate-controlled storage possible-it was late in the afternoon by the time Shawn and Gus arrived at the Santa Barbara Police Department.

"Shawn, it's almost five. What if Lassie's not there?" Gus asked as they pulled in.

"Gus, that is the most hilarious thing I've heard all day. Carlton Lassiter leaving work early on a Friday? It's absurd!"

"He does have a family now, Shawn." Gus paused. "Wait, more hilarious than the cookie joke?" he asked in protest.

Shawn opened his mouth, then thought a second. "Okay, you're right. The cookie joke was funnier." He held up his thumb and forefinger a hair's breadth from each other. "But only this much. Still, I do have to give you that one."

"You know that's right."

They piled out of the car, and Shawn looked toward the chief's parking spot.

It was empty. "I don't believe it…"

Gus saw the empty space and crowed in victory. "I told you!"

"Nooope." Shawn pointed. "There." At the end of the row sat Lassiter's black Ford Fusion, now with a brand spanking new license plate number.

Gus looked skeptical. "How do you know that's his?"

"Gus, this is me we're talking about," he said, holding splayed fingers to his chest. "I'm insulted. That is most undoubtedly Lassie's car. He's probably still playing it safe over the whole Salamatchia thing. Which is why we're _here_ , if you'll remember. Though the easiest way to answer the question would be to go inside."

That was when the front door of the station burst open. Shawn and Gus looked up the steps to see Lassiter come outside. He stopped to scan the parking lot, and the word _hopeful_ was the only way to describe his expression.

"Lassie!" Shawn called.

At his name Lassiter's gaze settled on Shawn and Gus and the green car they'd come in. He deflated a little and tried to cover by scowling at them. "McNabb said he thought he saw O'Hara's car pull in."

"Very true, but no Jules. She had to work. Sorry, Lassie." He'd been tempted to make more of a crack out of it, but after Lassiter's clear disappointment he didn't have the heart to.

"What are you doing here, Spencer?"

Shawn led the way as they bounded up the steps. "We're packing up Gus's place tomorrow! Just thought we'd come by, you know, for old times' sake. Spread the love. Maybe solicit more hands. And arms. And legs. And backs." They didn't need them, of course, but it had to sound convincing.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and spun to stalk back into the station.

"Told you he'd be here," Shawn whispered not-so quietly to Gus. They followed him to his office, where Lassiter picked up a briefcase from beside his desk and began neatly inserting stacks of paperwork.

"I am here, but not for much longer," he said, proving he'd heard.

"You're leaving on time? Who are you and what have you done with Carlton Lassiter?" Shawn gasped.

It had been nearly three years since Lassiter met Marlowe and it was still a little creepy sometimes to see a sincere smile on the man-so often, anyway. They had been exceedingly rare before that and ever since they'd been abundant. It was still weird.

"I attempt to leave at a reasonable time as often as I can, Spencer," Lassiter smiled. "If you and O'Hara ever have children, perhaps you'll understand." He paused, the smile faded, and he shuddered. "On second thought, dear god, please don't do that. Adopt if you must."

"You're hilarious, Lassie." Gus was actually laughing, and Shawn glared him down.

"You're not helping with the Salamatchia case," Lassiter said then, zipping his briefcase.

"What?" Shawn said.

Gus echoed him. "What?"

"Whaaaat? No! We wouldn't dream of butting in."

"Liars," Lassiter snorted.

"We are only here in Santa Barbara to pack and move boxes, cross our hearts and hope to die," Shawn said, crossing his heart. "Well. Move a _few_ boxes. The rest are going into storage. Gus is still rather jobless."

"Shawn!"

"What? It's true!"

"Lassiter doesn't need to know that!" Gus looked at Lassiter. "I have _two_ interviews this coming week. Two _good_ ones. Good positions. Possibly a third, if they call me back. "

Lassiter sighed, hands on his hips. "Your story may be true, and it may not be, but either way it doesn't change the fact that we have everything under control here."

"You still haven't caught him," Shawn pointed out.

"At this point he's probably not _here_ anymore, Spencer."

"See?" Gus said. "What'd I tell you?"

"That doesn't make it the truth. Lassie, you can't tell me it doesn't bother you he's still out there somewhere. You changed your plate and you're not even parked in your own spot. Also, wearing that tie with that shirt pretty much proves you were stressed when you picked out your clothes this morning."

"What the hell is wrong with my tie?"

"It exists."

Lassiter leveled a brand new glare at him. "I liked it better when you didn't tell me how you knew things."

"Also the hair."

"This is the way my hair _looks_."

Shawn moved in to get a closer look, circling him. "You're out of brown." He squinted closely at the back. "No wait! There's some."

Lassiter reached around, grabbed his shoulders, and dragged Shawn out in front of him again to deposit him back by Gus.

"They make hair dye, you know," Gus offered helpfully. "These days you can easily find find chemically safe solutions for reasonable prices." Shawn nodded in agreement.

"That would be dishonest," Lassiter quipped. He straightened his tie and fixed the button on the front of his jacket. "Besides, I find nothing wrong with my hair. It's distinguished." He smiled a little. "And Marlowe likes it."

"Okay, stop!"

"Stop!"

Lassiter chuckled and picked up his briefcase. "We're taking necessary precautions, but as much as I'd love to be out there hunting him down, as chief that's not my job anymore. And if Brannigan hasn't found him, he's not here. If he's not in the SDPD's jurisdiction, there's nothing more any of us can do, as much as I abhor that fact." He nodded to Shawn with a smirk. "And _my_ department doesn't hire psychics."

"I didn't say you had to _hire_ us."

"You _said_ you weren't here about Salamatchia at all."

Shawn squirmed. "Exactly. I didn't say anything about hiring us."

"Whatever you say, Spencer."

"Though I wouldn't complain if you wanted to let me take a look at the files, even just a peek. A glance. Just for fun. Or—"

He stopped when he realized Lassiter wasn't paying attention anymore. His attention had been drawn by something outside the office. He brushed past them out into the bullpen. Shawn and Gus followed him out, and the way he was going Shawn expected to see either Brannigan bringing in a perp or Marlowe bringing in Lily.

It was neither. It was Henry Spencer...and Lily.

Lassiter met him halfway to the office, wrangled on the shoulder strap of his briefcase so he had two hands, and swept up his daughter.

"Look who I ran into in the parking lot," Henry was saying. "I offered, but Marlowe wanted to put the carseat in the truck herself. Asked me to bring her in for a bit."

"Dad?" Shawn asked, as he and Gus caught up.

Lassiter was distracted, cooing at Lily.

"Shawn! Back so soon?" Henry teased.

"We're just here to get Gus's place together. We were gonna, you know, come by...sometime. Or something. What are you doing here? With a baby?"

"Babysitting, Shawn."

"Babysitting? For _Lassie_?"

"Yes, Shawn."

"Since when do you _babysit_? Since when do you babysit for _Lassie_?"

Henry sidled closer to his son. "Since he doesn't trust anyone else, Shawn," he answered quietly.

"I heard that," Lassiter said. He shrugged. "But it's true. I refuse to leave any child of mine with anyone not fully trained and equipped to protect her should a worst-case scenario occur."

"And Marlowe agrees with this?"

"Of course."

"And she doesn't think you're crazy?" Gus deadpanned.

"We both _firmly_ believe a babysitting or daycare service comprised entirely of former law enforcement personnel would be a fantastic business venture. Something to think about after retirement, perhaps. There should really be more parents smart enough to seek out such people to care for their children."

Shawn blinked in confusion. "Oh….kay." He directed his attention back to his father. "So you've been doing this a lot?"

Henry shoved his hands in his pockets and stood his ground. "Yes. I have. And I enjoy it. Besides, it's summer; no more classes until fall."

"You're gonna keep teaching?"

"Yes I am."

"Well good for you, Dad. Just don't let 'em eat you alive." He pointed at Lily. "That one either. She is Lassie's kid after all."

Henry rolled his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, Shawn."

"I resent that!" Lassiter protested.

Shawn pressed his hands to his chest, taken aback. " _Lassie_ , I didn't _say_ I didn't _love_ her. Just that proper precautions must be taken." He held out his arms. "Come to Uncle Shawn." Lassiter just backed away.

That was when Marlowe made it inside, dressed for an evening. They all knew when she'd walked in, because Lassiter was grinning. Shawn's eyebrows went up at the red dress, and they were all privy to the kiss she planted on her husband's lips when she reached him.

"Sorry, baby, I'm not changed," Lassiter told her. He made eyebrows at Shawn and Gus. "I was distracted." He handed Lily back to the elder Spencer. "Have everything you need, Henry?"

"Everything he needs is in his truck," Marlowe confirmed. "Thank you, Henry."

"Great!" Lassiter said. "Eleven at the latest, is that alright?"

"Take all the time you need, Carlton," Henry shrugged. He smiled at Lily and mimicked a small wave when he knew she was watching. "Say goodbye to Mom and Dad." It took a few seconds, but Lily giggled and waved too and Lassiter and Marlowe waved back.

Shawn shook his head. "I am losing my mind."

Gus elbowed him. "I think it's cute."

"Now if you'll excuse me," Lassiter said, once Henry had left with Lily. "I need to change so I can take my wife out tonight. Gentlemen." Instead of waiting Marlowe laughed and went off with him, hanging off his arm.

"Uhm…" Shawn said. "Public locker room!" he called after them. "Public for...you know, the force, anyway. Isn't that against the rules! Lassie!"

"Good _night,_ Spencer!" Lassiter called back.

They disappeared around the corner, and Gus was making a face. "You don't think they'd…?"

"Gus, that is the last thing I want to know. I vote we're not paying attention when they come back out to leave."

"Aren't _we_ leaving?"

"Of course not. We have files to find. Or steal...borrow. Or something like that."

"Hello, boys!"

Both of them squealed and jumped back at the voice from behind them.

"Brannigan!" Shawn gasped. "Ok. Hey. Hi. Yeah, uhm...do you think maybe you could _not_ scare people like that?"

Santa Barbara's new head detective stood behind them, grinning like she did. "It's good to see you!" she said, completely ignoring his question. "I saw you were here to visit and I just couldn't help going through my drawer. You're in luck! I had a few bracelets left from the last batch."

"Aww, you shouldn't have…" Gus elbowed him again, and Shawn took the string of beads Brannigan was trying to hand him.

"Thank you," Gus was saying, smiling and taking the other. "You're so thoughtful."

"Just know you're welcome here any time! The chief is just the chief, but you know that."

Shawn laughed, what he hoped was ironically. "Oooh yeah, we do."

"Is there anything I can help you two with?" Brannigan asked.

He opened his mouth to say no, but then he didn't. "Actually…"

* * *

Brannigan's over-eagerness to be helpful-and, apparently, her own concern for Lassiter-led to the evening and half the night sequestered in the conference room with the blinds drawn and the table covered in files and donuts coffee cups.

"And you're sure the chief said this was all right?" Brannigan asked more than once.

"Oh, yeah! Just don't say anything to him about it, okay? That was his one request-don't tell him what we're doing. He doesn't want to know. Enough stress as it is, and all that. Besides, this is all very unofficial."

"I see." Brannigan was skeptical, but apparently under the crazy she cared enough not to ask any more questions.

"Good old SBPD," Shawn said at one point, ankles crossed on the table because Brannigan had finally gone and there was no one to slap his feet down. "See, Gus? I told you not to worry about the moving thing. We will so always own this place. Maybe Psych should be a multi-city operation."

Gus snorted. "Lassiter's still never going to hire you."

"He's hired us before!"

"For personal stuff, Shawn. And even then only reluctantly. He'll never compromise his professional reputation by hiring you as chief."

"Well that's insulting to Chief Vick."

"You know what I mean. That how it is in his head."

The plan was to catch some sleep at Gus's place and hit the pavement in the morning once they'd gotten the movers started at ten.

Then someone knocked on the door at seven thirty.

"Gus!" Shawn, on the couch, seemed to be the only one to hear the knocking. And the doorbell. "Gus!" he called. Nothing. In fact, he was pretty sure he heard snoring. "Really?" Shawn dragged himself off the couch and to the door, and when he looked through the peephole he groaned. " _Really_?"

He opened the door to the Lassiter family, Marlowe carrying Lily and Lassiter carrying a bag of packing tape and a box of donuts. More donuts? Not that there was anything wrong with donuts twice in a row.

"You have got to be kidding me," Shawn said. "Lassie?"

"Didn't you say you'd welcome more bodies in the packing effort?"

"Not at seven thirty in the morning! On a _saturday_!"

Lassiter pushed inside, ushered his wife and child in, and made for the kitchen to put the donuts down. Shawn closed the door and followed, bewildered and still half asleep.

"Getting an early start is always better, Spencer. And actually, I sent out a mass email to the department from my phone before dinner last night. Already have several responses, and it seems there'll be people in and out all day to help. Should have this place ready to go in no time."

"Wha…?" Shawn scrubbed a hand through his hair and yawned again. "Are you serious?" It had to be some kind of joke. It was just them. Lassie was pulling his leg. Had to be, because Lassie he could get rid of somehow. A whole apartment full of people would be much more of a problem.

Lassiter shrugged. "Of course I'm serious."

Shawn stared a moment, and realized he wasn't kidding. "Oh. Ok. Uh...make yourselves at home. I'll...wake up Gus." With that he made a break for the hallway.

"Gus!" he hissed, from the bedroom doorway. Another snore. Shawn rolled his eyes, closed the door behind him, and hurried to the bedside to shake his best friend. "Gus! Buddy! Get up, it's an emergency!"

"Ahh!" Gus shot straight up. "What? What? Where's the fire!"

"Whoa! Dude. Chill. Not that kind of emergency."

"Then what, Shawn! Can't a man get his beauty rest?"

Shawn smirked. "Uhm. No. Not when you put it like that." Gus made a smacking sound and made to dive back under the covers. Shawn held them back. "No you don't! We've got company."

"Company?" Gus glanced at the clock. "It's seven thirty-five! On a saturday!"

"Exactly what I said, but does Lassie ever listen? Of course he doesn't."

"Lassie?"

"He called our bluff! He claims he's got people coming out of the woodwork to help. Please tell me you have the number of the packing people."

"Yeah…"

"Call and cancel!"

Shawn hurried back out into the main room, where Lassiter had already found the stack of new boxes in the corner and had taped a few together. Shawn bounded up to him. "Hey, Lassie, so...I mean, are you sure? You really don't have to—"

Lassiter clapped an arm around his shoulders to silence him. "Nice try, Spencer."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about. And there will be people here all day making sure you don't go anywhere else or do anything else. Either of you."

"You're still worried," Shawn shot back, and it wasn't a question.

"I can also still shoot you."

* * *

Carlton managed to avoid any further confrontation with Spencer the first half of the day, but during a break for lunch even Brannigan and McNabb were too distracted by pizza to ward him off. Carlton was cornered and all but pushed into the hallway.

"I'm _fine_ , Spencer."

"You have _my dad_ babysitting on the regular. Come on, son."

"Spencer—"

"Is it really most likely Salamatchia's nowhere near here?"

" _Yes_ , actually. If he wanted to stay free the smartest thing for him to _do_ would be to get as far away as possible."

Shawn shook his head. "No, I mean this guy. Is it most likely for _this_ guy."

"I don't know that much about him. Just that he's crazy. I never thought he'd even do what he did until he pulled a gun on me in that cemetery."

"And then it was full on crazy sauce, yeah, I know…"

Carlton sighed. "Look, Spencer, based on common patterns, if nothing else...yes, it's probable I'm not his focus anymore. He's gone. In the wind."

"So what are you worried about?"

"I not—"

"Those are not Marlowe's keys she has; you're still renting a car for her. It's not even the same one you had in San Francisco."

Carlton shifted uncomfortably. "We've been switching it out every few days…"

"Why? "

He huffed. "Because I'm not sure! Okay? There's no way to know for sure. Yes, I'm still a little concerned. You happy now?"

"I'll be happy if you let us help. You have to confine yourself to Santa Barbara and the SBPD's jurisdiction, but Gus and I don't."

Carlton groaned quietly. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. Go to the station, rifle through as many files as you want, but I _will_ be saying 'I told you' so if you don't find anything, either."

Shawn grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Step ahead of you, Lassie! We went through the files last night; I already have a few ideas."

With that Spencer was gone, back out into the main room, and Carlton was sputtering and considering dragging Brannigan back here to yell at her because of course she'd been the one to help them. But that wouldn't do any good.

"Carlton?" Marlowe swung into the hallway and smiled when she saw she'd found him. "What are you up to?"

"The usual. Arguing with Spencer." She took his hand when he held it out, and he tugged her to him and kissed her. It didn't take long holding onto her for the tension to drain from his body again.

"You all right, baby?" she asked.

"I am now," he smiled. Carlton pressed a kiss into her hair. "We needed last night. I'm glad we went."

"Sure. Make it sound like I didn't have to nag you for two weeks." She pulled his face back down and his lips back to hers.

"Eww! Get a room!" It was Spencer's voice, hooting into the hallway.

Carlton caught a glimpse of both Shawn and Guster disappearing around the corner. "We _had_ the whole hallway! Mind your own damn business, Spencer!"

Marlowe laughed. "Ignore them."

So they did.

* * *

The Lassiters left Guster's place soon enough to switch out the car again before the rental company closed for the day. Carlton did it out of habit-another Saturday, another switch. To be honest, he felt a little better about the whole thing after talking to Spencer.

Which was weird, but he'd take what he could get.

"Maybe we should try a minivan next time. Or an SUV. Something bigger, at least. Just to see if we like it," Marlowe was saying on the way home.

"Why?"

"Well because we'll _need_ one, someday. That's the plan, isn't it?"

Carlton shrugged. "Of course! But-wait." He blinked at her. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No," she laughed. "I wish I was, but not yet."

" _That's_ telling me something, kitten. You're telling me you want to start trying again."

Marlowe smiled suggestively and leaned in a little closer. "Maaaybe. We're not gettin' any younger, you know."

Carlton swallowed. "Well," he said. It came out a little higher-pitched than he intended, and he cleared his throat before going on. "You know, Henry said he didn't have anything going on the rest of the weekend…"

"You should call him."

"I will call hi— "

It all happened in a moment. The car jolted like they'd gone over a bump, but the road had looked perfectly fine. What the hell? Carlton tried to straighten the car, but when he pounded on the brake nothing happened.

"Damnit!"

"Carlton!"

They swerved farther out of control, and there were no brakes. They were going downhill and there was nowhere safe to go to bring the car to stop, but then it didn't matter. There was a second jolt, more forceful, and they were spinning. There was no time to correct before one end hit something-he didn't even know what-and the car flipped and kept rolling.

He knew. In the split second before everything fell apart, in that moment, Carlton knew what had happened. He knew the first jolt had been a small explosive blowing the brake line, he knew the second was another to ensure they crashed, and he knew it was all Salamatchia's doing. He knew he should have changed rental companies as often as he'd changed cars.

In that moment Marlowe latched onto his arm. In that moment Carlton looked at her and knew that, whatever happened, it was his fault.


	4. Chapter 4

Got more done as soon as I could! Sorry, know ya'll are going nuts. And I also know this chapter isn't a full answer, but hopefully it helps. Can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much for your reviews and support!

* * *

Chapter 4

May 2014

By six o'clock Brannigan and McNabb were the last guests left at Gus's apartment. Shawn, Gus and Buzz were ready to call it quits for the evening, but Brannigan was the sort to never say die.

"What are you talking about? Come on, boys! Everything's packed and stacked! Why wait until tomorrow to get it moved?" There were groans from around the living room. "What?"

Shawn should have known something was wrong when she answered her phone. He should have been watching, seen the look on her face change, but he didn't. He was too busy being flopped over the couch with an arm thrown over his eyes.

He knew it was work-related because she sounded serious all of a sudden. Her responses were quick, she ended with "We'll be right there," and Shawn should have looked up then, but he didn't. Not until Brannigan shouted at her partner.

"Buzz! Get up! The chief's been in an accident and the officer on the scene wants us down there; it looks like foul play."

Shawn was on his feet so quickly he was dizzy, and McNabb was already tripping over his own feet to get to the door.

"The chief? _Lassie?"_ Shawn questioned.

"Yes!" Brannigan shot back.

"What?" Gus gaped.

"But...they just left here like an hour ago!" Shawn protested.

Gus had started shaking his head. "Oh my god."

Shawn launched over the coffee table to keep up with Brannigan as she shot out of the apartment and into the corridor. Gus was still frozen in place inside. "We're following you," Shawn heard himself say.

"If you can keep up," Brannigan answered.

"Gus!" Shawn called. "Get your keys and lock up! We've got to go, man! She's not gonna wait for us!"

Brannigan was halfway to the stairs when Gus stumbled out the door and managed to get it locked behind him. "Shawn, all three of them were in that car."

"I know that!" Shawn took two running steps and stopped again. Gus ran into his back. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"They were switching the car again. They'd switched the car. Someone could have tampered with the new one."

"What does that mean?" Gus asked anxiously.

"It means this could be very bad."

* * *

"Chief? Chief!"

The world was not as it should be. Carlton knew that, but he didn't know why.

"Chief!"

Brannigan?

He meant to say that out loud. He hadn't, had he? Everything was a haze. A blur. He knew he was flat on his back but he didn't understand that, either.

"Br…"

There was a hand on his arm. His right arm. He knew that now. It squeezed briefly, then moved, but he scarcely had time to register his own hand being squeezed before pain shot up his arm.

"OW! Wrist! Damn! Wha…?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Brannigan?" Everything was clearer now. Carlton blinked up into orange evening sunlight and his head detective's face. McNabb hovered over her shoulder. "What happened?"

"You were in an accident, sir. They're taking you to the hospital. They're just waiting for another ambulance."

"Accid-Marlowe. Lily. Where's Lily? Where's my wife?" He tried to move, but he was strapped gown. It was a gurney he was lying on. Everything hurt when he moved, but he didn't particularly care.

"Sir, calm down—"

"Where are they!"

"Already on their way."

"To the hospital?"

Brannigan nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. They're being taken care of, and Buzz and I have this scene covered. We'll find out what happened."

His energy gone, Carlton dropped back again. "I know what happened…"

"What can you tell me, sir?"

"Check...under the car...explosives, I think."

"Explosives?" McNabb echoed.

Why was everything going dark again? "Salamatchia...had to...be…"

"Sir? Chief?"

"Lassie!"

The second voice came from farther away, with the sound of car doors slamming. Carlton forced his eyes open again, found the little green car parked by the road and the two blurred figures running for him. They were nearly stopped at the tape, but McNabb waved them through, stopped them to say something Carlton couldn't hear. He heard a siren though, and wondered if it were his ride.

He thought he only blinked, but Spencer and Guster were standing over him now.

"We'll find the bastard, Lassie, ok? And, you know, you're gonna fine. Everybody's gonna be fine." Spencer. So strange to see him so serious. Trying to be serious. Scared to death of being serious.

"Chief?" Brannigan asked around them. "Is there anyone else you want us to call?"

Carlton didn't know what he'd find when he woke. He didn't know much anymore, with everything fading to black again. There was a moment of panic, and he didn't think about his mother and Althea, and he didn't think about his sister Lauren. Not for long. If he couldn't have Marlowe at his side for right now there was only one other person he wanted.

Though it was also strangely comforting that Spencer was there, watching him, waiting for the answer if he could give one. "Lassie?"

"O'Hara…"

Somehow Carlton was sure Spencer would have know the answer whether he'd been able to say it or not.

* * *

Jules. Lassie wanted Jules, and Shawn couldn't blame him. _He_ wanted Jules.

"Chief?" Brannigan was saying again.

But Lassiter wasn't moving anymore, his eyes had closed, and the paramedic who'd been hovering on the other side of the gurney moved in to check on him. Shawn didn't budge until the guy nodded that it was ok, Lassie was ok, just kind of unconscious now.

"He wants us to call Detective O'Hara?" McNabb asked.

"Yeah," Shawn nodded. "Don't worry about it, Buzz; I'll do it."

"Ok…"

Brannigan was already off toward the upside-down wreckage of the rental car. One look told Shawn which rental company it came from-thanks to the broken license plate frame-and that the passenger side had taken the most damage. He also knew Lassie had been right about the explosives. After that, he didn't really want to look anymore.

"Come on, Gus." He was already on his way back to Jules's car.

"Come on _where_? Aren't you calling Juliet?"

"Yes! In the car."

"Shawn! Where are you going?" It should have been Gus, he thought-it would have been a natural progression-but it wasn't. He spun from pulling the green door open and it was Brannigan, shouting at him from from atop the wrecked car, where she'd climbed up on the exposed underbelly to look for the evidence Lassiter had sent her after. Someone from forensics was on the ground waiting for her to clear off so samples could be taken.

"To the rental place!" Shawn yelled back. "They just picked this thing up; someone's got to get there _now_. I-I sense there will be clues. Possibly time-sensitive clues."

Brannigan's mouth opened and Shawn expected her to protest. He expected her to say something about waiting for her, or something about a warrant or something.

"We'll finish here, requisition any traffic camera footage from between here and there, and meet you at the station!" she called instead.

"Uhm...ok!" Shawn turned back to the car and Gus. "What just happened?"

"I think we're working together."

"Weird. She usually just bowls right over us."

"I know, right? But she did help us out with the files last night."

"She's learning. How to pretend to be a normal human at times, I mean." Shawn shrugged, and hiked a foot to climb into the tiny green car. When they were both in he glanced from Gus to the steering wheel in his hands and back again. "I also just realized this is also weird. Usually you drive."

"Do you want to get out and switch?"

"No I do not want to get out and switch! We need to go."

Then something else in the wreck across the street caught his eye.

"Shawn?"

"Hold on," he said, and got out anyway.

Gus leaned over to shout through the window. "Do you want to switch?"

"I don't care, Gus! Don't be the unpopular high school chick who asks the hip kids the same question five times. "

* * *

Henry Spencer was the only friend of the Lassiters who was not currently involved in the case or still five hours away. When Shawn called, he was out the door of his new apartment within a minute and a half.

"Which hospital, Shawn?"

"What? Oh...I actually forgot to ask. Call Brannigan. Or Buzz."

By the time he had an answer and made it to the hospital, it was dark. The traffic hadn't helped, either. The emergency ward was busy-a typical weekend in Santa Barbara, as far as he knew-and Henry began to wonder what the point was. He wasn't family and he didn't know how he'd find any of them.

Then a familiar growl rose above the hum of the waiting room crowd, and he discovered he wouldn't have to look as far as he'd thought. A dirty, haggard-looking Carlton Lassiter was at the front desk yelling at the poor young woman behind it.

His right wrist was in a cast, that arm in a sling, and it looked like the edge of the desk might be the only thing holding him up.

"Sir, someone will be out to talk to you as soon as possible—"

"I want to see my wife and my daughter!"

"Sir, your wife is in surgery and—"

"Surgery? For what!"

"Like I said, someone will be out to talk to you as soon as—"

Henry cut the girl off to thank her, grabbed Lassiter's arm, and dragged him away from the desk before he could get himself restrained or arrested.

"Carlton, what the hell are you doing out here? Shawn told me you were unconscious the last time he saw you; you probably have a concussion."

"I wasn't out for long. It's just a mild concussion and a broken wrist. I'll be fine. Let _go_ of me, Henry," Lassiter protested, wrenching away. He overbalanced and Henry had to catch him and guide him to a chair. He resisted sitting. "No, I have to—"

"Sit down, or I'll make you. It wouldn't be hard."

"I am not just going to sit here! My wife and child are back there, and-and—" He swayed again. Henry caught his arms and lowered him into the chair before sitting beside him.

"What are you doing here, Henry?"

"Shawn called me."

Lassiter tried to get up again, but it didn't work so well. "I gathered that," he sighed. He grimaced and shifted in the chair, maybe trying to find a comfortable position. It didn't seem there was one. "Here to keep an eye on me, are you?"

"Apparently you need it. You should be in a hospital bed."

"If I'm in a bed myself I can't be with Marlowe and Lily. Of course, I also can't do that if _no one will tell me where they are!"_ The last bit was shouted purposely, directed at the desk. The young woman there expertly ignored him.

"Look, Carlton, there's nothing you can do right now but wait." He dropped a plastic bag in Lassiter's lap. "Here. Once someone's come to talk to you, you can find a place to clean up and change."

Lassiter stared at the bag blankly. "What—?"

"Clothes, Carlton. For all of you. I was hoping you'd need them sooner rather than later, but if Marlowe's in surgery she's going to be here a few days."

"Right…" He glanced down at his filthy navy work pants and collared shirt, then opened the bag and glanced through the contents. After a moment he made a face. "Wait, how did you—?"

"I told you about the key hidden outside; you haven't moved it yet."

"Oh…I uhm...thanks?" Lassiter let out a breath and pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked, but it still seemed to be working. He scowled at it when it had no messages or missed calls for him. "O'Hara's not answering her phone...I wouldn't know what kind of message to leave."

"Shawn left a message," Henry told him. "But he said she was in the middle of a case when he left San Francisco; she might not be able to get back to anyone right now."

Lassiter snorted and let his head drop into his uninjured hand. "Figures."

He was quiet after that, and Henry wasn't sure what do other than sit until he said something else.

"Henry."

"What, Carlton?" he asked gently.

"I...I should have done something else. I don't know. I should have switched companies again. I should have checked the cars myself. I should have done _something_ , I—"

"Stop it," Henry cut in sharply. He grabbed Lassiter's arm, made him look up before he went on. "Stop it right now. I'm not having any of this guilt crap. That is not what you need to be doing right now, and it sure as hell isn't your fault anyway."

"Why am I the one standing, Henry?"

"Well you're not, really."

"You know what I mean!"

Henry shook his head. "No reason. No reason at all. Chance. Which means it's _no one's fault_ except the bastard that probably caused this in the first place. So stop it. Focus on being here. When they do let you back there Marlowe and Lily are going to need you. You hear me?"

Lassiter looked at him for a long time before he nodded.

"Good."


	5. Chapter 5

Here's more! Thanks so much for everything, everybody! Can't wait to hear from you. :)

Chapter 5

April 10, 2014

It was one of the last nights they would spend in the condo. The place was only boxes and furniture now. Henry was nearly finished moving out of the house and they'd close in a few days. The condo was under contract. Spencer and Guster had been gone for nearly a week, and the station seemed quieter without them but Brannigan kept it lively. The SBPD was running just as smoothly as it ever had.

Life was particularly good, then there was this. Tonight. Their first anniversary.

It seemed fitting to spend it here—their first home as a married couple—now that they'd be leaving it behind soon. Carlton had asked two weeks ago if Marlowe wanted to go out for this, and she said no. He'd been secretly hoping she would.

He'd never considered himself particularly sentimental, but then he'd done things in the past like asking Spencer and Guster for help, of all people, when Old Senora was in trouble. He'd gone weak in the knees when Marlowe appeared in a red dress on their wedding day, recalling the night they met. They still pressed their palms together, fingers outstretched against each other, when a moment needed to be important. When they needed to remember where they began or why they needed to be thankful they were here, together, at last.

Carlton was beginning to think maybe he'd fooled himself all this time—that he was nothing but a sentimental old fool in tough skin. In the past that would have terrified him, but he didn't mind the idea anymore.

The ups and downs the last year—the problems with Trout, being demoted for a while, having a child much sooner than they'd planned, fighting at times while Marlowe was pregnant—were nothing now. With Marlowe it didn't matter if he wasn't as tough as he'd always thought he was.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, when the door closed behind Henry, who'd come to take Lily for them, and they were alone.

"Oh?" They barely made it two feet from the door before Marlowe molded into his arms. "What, Baby?"

"Henry agreed to take Lily all night. We don't have to pick her up until noon tomorrow. It's just you and me, Kittenhead."

Candles were lit and they danced in the middle of the living room floor, so wrapped in each other that for a while they forgot they hadn't turned on any music yet. When Carlton detoured to put something on and came back to her Marlowe pulled him in and kissed him.

"You remembered," she said.

"Remembered what?"

"You sang me this song, the first night we spent together."

"At O'Hara's," he chuckled. "So quiet...I was afraid I'd wake her."

"And Shawn. He lived there then, didn't he?"

"Spencer is like a bear. I wasn't worried about him." Carlton paused. "I also tend to block out the fact that I slept in the same house as Spencer for several nights."

Marlowe shrugged and looped her arms around his waist and squeezed. "Well. Quiet or not, I fell in love with your voice that night."

"Oh, is that why you married me?" He kissed her, fingers in her hair, and she laughed.

"It was romantic!"

"Sorry, Baby, it actually wasn't exactly my idea..."

"Then where'd it come from?"

"Television show. Not the usual sort. When I do waste time with television I'm perfectly happy with true crime, it's less mind-numbing, but one of the guys on the force told me his wife was watching a show with a character that looked quite a bit like me. Said it was scary. I had to admit I was curious, and there it was. Kept up for a while. Of course the show was playing that particular incident for laughs, but I was being sincere."

Marlowe nodded sagely. "Ahh. Was it the guy you who looked like you who did it?"

"No. Someone else."

"Then you still get a few points."

"Thank you, Smoochie-Pie," Carlton grinned brightly. He kissed her again, deep and long and part of him still not quite believing how perfect she was. He took in her scent, kissed her neck, and he never wanted to let go.

"I wanted so badly not to disappoint you that night," he whispered. "I wanted it to be something we would remember." He laughed a bit. "Maybe I got a little desperate."

"You? Desperate?" Marlowe giggled and nuzzled his ear. "Are you gonna sing to me now? Sing to me now, Baby."

He couldn't say no, but the words had gone for the moment. Carlton held his wife, swaying with her, and hummed by her ear through the hiatus until the words returned.

"' _Let me give my life to you. Come, let me love you...'"_

* * *

May 2014

Smudges. Smudges and dust told Shawn that Salamatchia had been at the car rental place. There was oil and such things everywhere in the garage where they kept up maintenance on the cars, but the computers told him there had been 'maintenance' done earlier in the day on the car Lassiter picked up, and which bay it had been in.

There were old oil stains in the concrete, but it was the dusty footprints and the new oily smudges near the edge of the recess in the floor that stood out. The oil wasn't the same oil as the other stains. It was a slightly different color and he'd seen it before. He'd seen that dust before, too, and those footprints were the same size Salamatchia wore. He knew that because he remembered Salamatchia's footprints in the mud in the cemetery four and half years ago, and he knew the rest because he remembered the shoe repair place. He remembered the particular kind of dust that had been down in the hidden cellar.

"Shawn, according to records that place has been abandoned since Petrovich went down," Brannigan told him over the phone. "We knew Salamatchia knew about it, and it's the first place we looked. There was no one there."

"There was no one there _then_ ," Shawn stressed.

A pause. "You think he left town after the escape and then came back. To throw us off."

"Yes! False sense of security and all that. I think it would be a serious mistake not to check again. I'm sensing it. I'm sensing he was _here_ , at the rental place, and that he's _there_ now. Come on, Betsy."

Which was how he and Gus ended up outside the tiny abandoned corner store in the bad part of town that had once been a shoe repair establishment, with Brannigan and McNab.

"You can't tell me the thought didn't cross your mind," Shawn was saying.

"Of course it did!" Brannigan retorted. "He's evaded _me_ for three weeks. Of course I've thought he just _wasn't here._ The idea he might then come back also occurred to me. So I've remained vigilant."

"Of course you have. I know you have. Come on, you're you. This isn't your fault either, Betsy," Shawn told her.

"Save it. We're going in," Brannigan said. She silenced him, and with a quick motion to Buzz they were moving.

The trap door inside was sitting open.

"That wasn't like that last time we were here…" McNab began.

"Go, go, go!" Brannigan cut in.

But there was no one down there.

"He was _here_!" Shawn insisted.

Then they found the evidence—fresh trash in a can under Petrovich's desk, and strewn across a table what was left of the materials Salamatchia had used to put together the small explosive devices he'd planted on the car. There was no attempt to hide that he'd been here, but he was gone now.

"Oh my god," Gus said more than once. "It really is him."

McNab didn't look so good, either, and Shawn clapped a hand on the junior detective's shoulder and tried not to look as frustrated as he was. "Hey Buzz, buddy, you ok?"

" _I'm_ fine, Shawn, but thanks," Gus answered.

McNab shrugged. "Yeah, I mean...last time Salamatchia didn't seem to care too much when that explosion in my mailbox didn't actually kill me, so I'm more worried about the chief."

"That's the spirit, I guess."

Brannigan holstered her weapon and surveyed the evidence left behind. "We'll get a forensics team in here. We should get back to the station; we have that security footage to review."

"We should get the stuff from the cameras at the rental place, too," Shawn said.

She nodded. "Done. Come on."

"Ok, but Gus and I are gonna make a stop first."

* * *

Shawn really hated hospitals. Maybe he'd been more indifferent about them before his dad was shot, but now he hated them. This wasn't helping.

"How do you feel about home birth?" he'd asked Juliet, the week after he proposed.

"No. Hell no. I want an epidural. I had a cousin give birth at home in high school, and my mother was dumb enough to let me come." She'd shuddered. "Never again."

"Ah. Ok. You may have to have our kids without me."

He was talking into her shoulder in bed, and she smirked a little and rolled over in his arms to look at him. "Isn't it too early to be talking about this? I did say _way_ before we're sixty, but that doesn't mean it won't be a few years."

"That's what Lassie thought this time last year, and now they have a two month old. Three month old. However old she is. She's too cute to be Lassie's either way."

"Do you really hate hospitals that much?"

"Now I kinda do, yeah."

So Shawn didn't want to be here. Not at all. But it was Lassie.

A text from Henry directed him to the right hospital, the right building, the right waiting room. He spotted Lassie right away, pacing in a corner, reaching out to the wall for support every now and then. He was a lot cleaner than the last time Shawn had seen him, hair still damp, in a fresh shirt and jeans, and Shawn supposed his dad was to thank for that.

Besides that, Lassiter didn't look so awesome. He looked pale and dizzy and worried, besides the arm in a sling, the cast on his wrist, and the obligatory cuts and scrapes.

Henry caught him before he and Gus could make their way that direction. "Shawn."

"Dad. Hey. Uhm...how is he? They. Everything."

"Hard to say. Not...not great. Marlowe just came out of surgery. We're waiting for them to get her settled and let him back there."

"But that's good, right?"

"We don't know. They still can't promise us anything. And he saw Lily for a few minutes, but something...happened. I don't know. Some sort of complication and now _she's_ in surgery. They seem more positive about that—say she should come through it fine—but it's just...nothing is great right now, Shawn."

Henry looked tired himself, and even though he'd only seen them together once Shawn knew his dad was worried about Lily just as much as he was about Lassie and Marlowe. Maybe more. He looked a little sick.

"It'll be fine, Dad. Everybody's gonna be fine." How many times had he said that in the last three hours?

"Yeah, I sure as hell hope so."

Shawn made a motion for Gus to stay with Henry, and made a beeline for Lassiter.

"Lassie! Hey."

Lassiter perked up and slowed his already pokey pacing to a stop. "Spencer! Anything?"

"Sort of. We know what he did and how and where he _was_ , just not, you know, where he _is_. But we're working on it. We're on our way back to the station to look at some security footage and stuff. We're on top of it."

"Where was he?"

"He came back and used Petrovich's hideout under the shoe place after you'd already checked it. Probably just for the last couple of days; there wasn't any more trash than that."

"He didn't get rid of the trash? He didn't clean up again?" Lassiter asked in confusion.

Shawn made a face. "No. He's gone and...he left everything."

Now Lassie looked sick. "He's taunting us. Me."

"Come on, man, he probably just figured there was no point. He knows we know it's him. He didn't really seem like the taunting type."

Lassiter shrugged and scrubbed a hand through his hair. His elbow in the sling swung to the wall for support.

"Dude, _why_ are you up?"

Lassiter pinned him with a weak glare. "Not you too."

"You look like hell. You look like hell, in a handbasket, _and_ frozen over."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Spencer," he snapped. But at the same time he shifted on his feet and swayed. Shawn caught his shoulder.

"Sit back down before you break something else, seriously."

"I actually may have...fibbed, a bit, to your father. They actually didn't say the concussion was mild…"

"No joke."

They found the nearest chairs and sat. Shawn pulled what he'd found in the wreck out of his jacket pocket and handed it over.

"Here. Rescued that." It was the little yellow stuffed dog he'd given them after Lily was born, dirty and a little the worse for wear, but intact. "Might want to, you know, wash it and all before you give it back to her, but, yeah."

Lassie took the toy, turned it over in his hands and wiped at the dirt. "Thanks, Spencer." He smiled, but halfway through it sort of...broke. Wobbled. "Stupid thing is still her favorite toy."

Ow. Shawn felt that. He winced and his arm came up behind Lassiter, almost of its own volition, and then it was there and it hovered there awkwardly for a few seconds before coming down over Lassie's shoulders and patting once or twice.

"Hey...she'll be ok." He really wanted to stop just saying that stuff and know it for sure.

And why the hell hadn't Jules called back yet?

Lassie didn't answer, because someone popped through the double doors and called his name. Shawn helped him back to his feet.

"Thank god," he was saying. He didn't seem to see the rest of them anymore.

Shawn wandered back to his dad and Gus once Lassiter had disappeared through the doors with the nurse who had come to fetch him. "You can stay, right?" he asked Henry.

"Yeah. I'm not going anywhere. Go find Salamatchia."

Shawn shifted uncomfortably. "I uh...think it might turn out to be a longer haul than that, Dad...maybe. I don't know. This whole thing sucks."

"Whatever it takes, Shawn. Get going. I've got this."

"Call us if anything changes?" Gus asked.

"Yeah."

* * *

Juliet didn't check her personal phone until the case was closed. She wanted to, she was worried about what Shawn and Gus might be getting themselves into looking for Salamatchia, but there was just no time. She had no two seconds strung together for herself Friday or Saturday at all, until Saturday night came and the killer was in lockup downstairs.

She was exhausted. Karen told her to go home, but she decided she'd rather finish the paperwork and have it done with before she went home and crashed.

"Fine," Karen said. "But if you're going to do that, take Monday morning off."

The chief disappeared into her office to gather her own things, and Juliet took a minute to check her phone.

There were more than half a dozen missed calls and a voicemail from Shawn, three missed calls from Gus, a missed call from Henry Spencer, and two missed calls from Carlton.

Juliet's stomach lurched as she punched up the voicemail.

"Jules! Hey...uhm...so, not to overly alarm you or anything, but there's been an accident...a car accident...and it's definitely Salamatchia's fault and uhm, Lassie and Marlowe, and Lily...they're all in the hospital, and I don't even know how bad it is really, because I didn't ask because, big surprise, I didn't want to know. But Lassie passed out when I saw him at scene. After he asked for you. Marlowe and Lily had already been taken and...and I don't know what that means. And—"

Shawn cut off in the message, gave one of those sharp little laughs that wasn't really a laugh. It was the sound he made when he wasn't dealing. Juliet wondered when it had become hard to breathe.

"And Gus and I are on our way to check out the rental place where they got the car. They'd just picked it up. Somehow Salamatchia got explosives under it. But, you know, Gus had to pee. He's in the gas station, and god, I'm really glad he's not listening to me leave this message 'cause you know I suck at this stuff." Shawn cleared his throat. "God. Ok, look, I know you're probably busy with that case, but as soon as you can you really need to come down here. Lassie needs you." He paused. " _I_ need you."

There were noises on the other end of the line, shuffling and a car door opening and closing, Gus's voice.

"I've got to go, Jules! I love you," Shawn finished, higher pitched and so, so faking being fine. "We've got this, just get here when you can."

The the message was over. Juliet didn't know when she'd gotten to her feet, didn't know when she started gripping the edge of her desk so tightly her knuckles were white, and she didn't want to know what her face looked like. Karen had come out of her office and was staring at her.

"Juliet?"

* * *

They brought him to Marlowe, explained a few things-like the fact that she wasn't out of the woods yet, but if she made it through the night that was a good sign.

That was supposed to make him feel better?

And it wasn't as much relief as Carlton had hoped for to see her...small and pale in the bed, a tube down her throat.

But he could see her. He could be here, and sit beside her, and hold her hand. So he did.

"Hey, Baby…" he said softly. "I'm here."

* * *

April 10, 2014

Carlton sang to her again, later that night when they were in bed.

 _"'Let me drown in your laughter. Let me die in your arms...'"_

" _You_ would never be happy dying in my arms," Marlowe giggled. "You'd rather die in your firestorm of bullets."

"Hailstorm, Baby. Hailstorm."

"Whatever." She snuggled into his chest and reached up to twirl a bit of his hair around her fingers. "Is it selfish of me to want to go first?"

"Yes. But so do I, so I can't blame you. And your arms would be a close second choice." Marlowe pulled on the hair she was playing with. "Ow!"

"You're hopeless. Come here," she said, pushing up to claim his lips again. Carlton kissed her back, but made a sound of protest in his throat. "What?" she asked.

"I just want to say something, Muffin."

Marlowe sighed and half sat up, giving him her full attention. "What?"

Carlton sat up against the headboard and took her hands. "I just...don't want you to worry about it. That's all."

She smiled. "I don't. Because I know you'll protect me, and I will kick anyone's ass who tries to hurt you. I assume that's where you were going with that."

"God, I love you."

* * *

NOTES: The song mentioned is "Annie's Song" by John Denver, and of course the television show mentioned is Judging Amy. I've finished it now and I am seriously sad about that. I was seriously dying of cute the whole time. I need more Sean Potter.


	6. Chapter 6

So I have to travel to a wedding this weekend, and I probably will not be able to write at all, so I probably won't have another chapter up until about this time next week. I know that sucks, I'm sorry. So I wanted to go ahead and get this next chapter up, and I found a more positive note to leave you with until I get back. Go team! I love them all so much. And thank you so much for reviewing!

Chapter 6

May 2014

It was clear something was off the moment they saw the footage of the crash from a camera at a business across the street. Shawn's finger shot to his eyebrow immediately.

"The car behind them—"

"It reacted too quickly," Brannigan cut in.

"It reacted _before_ there was any hint anything was wrong," Shawn agreed, deflating a little as his thunder was stolen. He should be used to it by now with her, but there it was.

"The driver knew what was going to happen. It was him. He was in that car," Brannigan deduced.

Shawn was nodding. "He couldn't have known exactly when they'd pick up the car, and if he wanted it to look like an accident at first he couldn't have anything going off when they opened any doors or anything. So it wasn't rigged, he—"

"Had a remote detonator! Which he couldn't have used from much of a distance; not with the crude materials he used."

"Man…" McNab said quietly.

Shawn swallowed, and he had to sit down. Gus was there, at his shoulder, and he was kind of really grateful for that. He was also glad it was just the four of them, sequestered in the conference room like last night.

"He set them off himself," Shawn said thickly. The more he talked the more angry he realized he was. "He watched all three of them get in that car, the whole family, and he followed them, and he set the explosives off himself while they were going _downhill_ in a bad spot and there was nowhere for them to go!" He was chopping hands at the screen.

Brannigan's mouth pressed into a hard line and she made for the door. "I'll put an APB out on that model car. And I'll get someone in here in the morning to try to clean up that footage and get a license plate number."

McNab followed his partner, but not before he told Shawn and Gus to let him know if they needed anything.

"Yeah...thanks, Buzz."

"What do _we_ do?" Gus asked. He took a seat and Shawn shrugged.

"Wait and look at the rest of this footage, I guess. Mostly wait. Which sucks."

It wasn't until after a couple of miserable hours or so of it that Jules finally called.

"Jules! I was going insane!"

"I'm sorry! We'd just closed the case when I got your message. I was still at the station so I just...I talked to Karen and I ran home and threw some stuff in a bag and started driving. You know, you get on autopilot, and...I'm sorry. I'm probably, I don't know...about halfway there? Give me a couple more hours."

Shawn heard something in her voice. The way she got when she'd been up on a case for two or three days. "You haven't slept, have you?"

"Well…" she wheedled.

"Jules!"

"No, ok? I can sleep when I get there. How are they?"

"Jules, _be careful_. You have coffee?"

"I had a whole thermos. I need more. I have to stop anyway I really have to pee."

Shawn sighed and poked at the scrunching skin between his eyes. "Okay...okay, good. Keep with the coffee. Coffee is your best friend. Call me if you need any more help staying awake. Or you know what? Don't. Don't call back. Just stay on. _I_ don't have anything to do. We're sitting around waiting on any word from an APB Brannigan put out. We know what kind of car Salamatchia's driving."

"That's something."

"Yeah."

"Shawn."

"What?"

"How are they?"

Shawn made a face, because she couldn't see it. "I don't know...we were only there for like five minutes a couple of a hours or so ago. Lassie was sort of up. Broke his wrist and he's banged up pretty bad I guess, but otherwise he'll be fine once he gets over the concussion."

"Oh, thank god. Marlowe and Lily?"

"That's what I don't know about, Jules. From what I heard the doctors were being kind of particularly unhelpful in that area. They both had surgery. I don't know what that means, either."

The line was quiet for a while. "Jules?"

"Ok," she said finally. "Look, I mean...your dad got shot in the chest and had surgery and he's fine. You're right; we don't know what that means. Just hang on, Shawn. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good. Awesome. Please hurry. Safely."

"Shawn."

"What?"

"I love you, but I have to go. Being on the phone with you right now is illegal enough; I don't need to do it for two hours. And I still have to pee."

Shawn's chest tightened at the idea of hanging up now that he had her. "But—"

"I _promise_ I will call back if I get too tired, ok?"

"Ok...I love you."

"I love you, too."

Jules hung up, and Shawn looked around the conference room. Gus was asleep in a chair, his feet propped in another. He was snoring.

Shawn wandered out into the bullpen. Brannigan still had Jules's old desk, and she was still sitting at it even though it was past midnight. She looked up when Shawn shuffled over to it.

"You don't have to stay here, you know. The department hasn't even officially hired you on this case. And it may take a while to get a hit," she told him.

" _You're_ not going home."

"No, but I was about to hit the couch in the break room."

"Gus is asleep. And Jules is on her way."

Brannigan perked up at that. "Detective O'Hara?" Shawn nodded. "I've wanted to meet her! I've heard so much about her. Of course, I'd rather it weren't under such dire circumstances…"

Shawn shrugged. He started to shuffle off, but something stopped him. "Hey...Betsy?"

"Yes, Shawn?"

"Just...I mean, you did kind of put me and my buddy Gus out of a job here, but, you know, everything worked out, San Francisco is great. Big. But great. I mean anywhere's great if Jules and Gus are there, so..."

He shrugged again. "And you and Lassie seem to be doing great here running this place and...sorry, I only get this normal when I'm this tired. Before I'm not anymore I guess I thought you should know you're kind of awesome, and...thank you, for looking out for Lassie now that the rest of us aren't here anymore."

Brannigan got one of those big scary smiles, and Shawn wondered whether he was going to regret saying anything at all. She got up and came around the desk. "Thank you, Shawn! It's nice to know you feel that way. Give me some sugar!"

"What?" She hugged him briefly and kissed his cheek with a big smack, and it was no less scary than the first time. "Oh-okay. Uhm…"

"Gonna go see about that nap now," she said, and blew past him.

"Okay, you do that…"

Though it was kind of funny Brannigan was doing that at all. In the brief time he'd known her Shawn had already come to equate her with the Energizer Bunny. But, he supposed, everyone was human.

* * *

Carlton drifted off in his chair, head pillowed by his good arm on the edge of Marlowe's bed. He knew it wasn't a good idea the first time Henry woke him. His body was stiff and sore from the accident and this was only making it worse. But he didn't want to move.

"Sorry," Henry was saying. "Concussion, remember? Have to check."

"'S okay...thanks."

"How many fingers?"

"Don't be stupid, Henry."

The older Spencer huffed in amusement and patted his shoulder once. "You're fine." Henry started to go, to leave Carlton alone with his wife. "And you might want to check your phone," he said, before he ducked out.

He reached for it in his pocket, but before his fingers found purchase he realized he'd felt something, when he pulled his hand from Marlowe's to get it. A twitch, maybe.

Carlton took his wife's hand again. "Marlowe?" Another twitch, her fingers sliding against his. "Bunnyface?" He got to his feet, ignored the spinning room, and clung to the edge of the bed to lean close to her face without toppling over.

Her eyelids flickered, and she was looking at him. Just like that. Not particularly alert-like, maybe not clearly, but she saw him. He knew she did.

"Hey," he gasped quietly. "Hi." Carlton leaned over clumsily to kiss her forehead. "I'm right here, Marlowe. I love you. I love you so much."

But when he pulled back her eyes were closed again. He didn't know how much she'd heard. Carlton sank back into his chair and waited, but she didn't wake up again.

When he remembered to check his phone there was a long text from Brannigan about the clue in the video and the APB, which helped a little, and one text from Spencer.

 _Jules is on the way._

That helped more.

* * *

When Juliet pulled into the parking lot at the Santa Barbara Police Department, she didn't have time to think about the fact that it would have been nice to be back if it weren't for what was going on.

There were several people on the steps, making their way up and into the station. She was so beyond tired even after all the coffee that once she'd parked she spaced out a little. It took a minute or two for her realize two of the people heading inside were Shawn and Gus.

Juliet climbed out of the car and called over the hood. "Shawn!"

Her fiance's ears perked up immediately. He spun, spotted her, and raced back down the stairs. Juliet hurried around the car to meet him halfway, and she didn't mind the slightly painful impact and the rush of air from her lungs when they ran into each other. It kept her awake.

"Jules! You're here! It's only been like an hour and a half."

"Yeah," she gasped into his shoulder.

"My sweet, sweet speed demon," Shawn bragged, to no one but the two of them. It took a while for him to let go of her.

"Did you just come from somewhere?" she asked, once she had her breath back.

Shawn gave her half a step of space, still holding onto her arms between them. He deflated a little. "Yeah. We got a hit but it was a dead end. Not the right car."

"These things take time, Shawn."

"I know, Jules, I know. I'm just kinda hating that right now."

Juliet hugged him again, briefly. "I know." Then she kissed him, because she needed that, and he certainly wasn't complaining about it. "Ok, speed demon has to pee and then you're taking me to the hospital."

"You don't want to rest?"

"Have you?" Shawn made a face. "I didn't think so. And I want Carlton to know I'm here."

"I told him you were coming. Are you sure? Because it's like two in morning and I could use a nap, too, and since you're here now maybe I could actually—"

"Shawn," Juliet said firmly. She wasn't angry. She knew he was only half serious, and that he tended to ramble even more than usual when he was tired and stressed. She got it. She just put both hands on his chest so he knew she was serious. "Shawn, he's my best friend. I want to see him."

"Ok, ok, sorry, I'm just—"

"I know. Don't worry about it."

Shawn nodded, and then he blinked at her. "Wait. He is? Lassie?"

"Is what? Oh…" _Shawn, he's my best friend._

She didn't realize it'd slipped out. She'd thought it a few times over the more recent years, but she'd never said it.

"Yeah," she said after a moment. "I guess he is."

After Juliet ducked inside to the bathroom Shawn and Gus were waiting for her in her little green car, Gus stuffed into the back seat. The engine was running and she slipped into the passenger's side.

"So, really?" Shawn joked, once they'd pulled out. "Really, really?"

Juliet could tell he was seizing any opportunity to riff—a chance to dispel nervous energy in the only way he knew how. So she went along with it. Normally she did anyway, and it was one reason why they worked so well together, but right now she wasn't in the mood. She did it anyway because he needed it.

"Well, _you_ don't qualify anymore. I'm marrying you," she said.

"Aren't you _supposed_ to marry your best friend?"

"I hope not. You'd be engaged to Gus instead."

"Not happening!" Gus called from the back seat.

"We didn't ask you!" they called together. Juliet found herself laughing despite herself. Just a little. And thinking maybe everything would be fine. Just an awful night that they'd get through, and everything would be fine. What else were friends for?

Shawn nudged her with an elbow. "What? No girlfriends from college? Grade school buddies?" he asked.

"I wasn't that kind of girl, Shawn. You know that. And I've hardly kept up with anyone I did hang out with. Scott was the closest I came to having someone I planned to keep around, and you know how that turned out. Karan would be the only other closest thing now."

"Ok, true."

Juliet cocked her head at him, smiled. "You don't have a problem with that, do you? If Carlton is my best friend?"

Shawn smiled, and it was a real smile, and she felt a little better about her fiance's mental state. "Are you kidding?" he said. "If Lassiter and your family are my only competition for your affections, I'm totally set."

"And Gus," she added.

"And Gus."

"Thank you," Gus piped up.

* * *

"Should I wake him up?" Juliet asked.

She and Shawn and Henry were crowded just outside the doorway to Marlowe's room, and Carlton was asleep with his head in his arm on the edge of the bed. Henry said it wasn't the first time tonight, either.

"Go ahead," Henry answered. "I was about to check on him again, anyway.

"Thanks, Dad," Shawn put in.

"Yeah." The older Spencer motioned back toward the waiting room. "I'll be out here with Gus."

Shawn watched him go, then glanced inside at Lassiter. "I can go with my dad. Or do you want me to stay here?"

Juliet squeezed his hand. "You don't really want to go _in_ the room, do you?"

"Sort of not really…" he trailed. His mouth pressed into a thin line and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"That's okay."

"But tell me how Lassie's doing?"

"Okay. Go on."

Shawn nodded and took a step away, then came back to peck her lips with his before he loped off after Henry.

The room was quiet, but for the beeping of the monitors and sounds of the respirator and the equipment humming. Lassiter's breathing was even, his fingers twined with Marlowe's by his head, and he looked so peaceful that way Juliet hated to wake him. He didn't have to worry like that. He could just be.

In eight years she'd learned it wasn't often Carlton Lassiter could do that.

But the taped gash on his forehead reminded her why he needed to be woken, and she made a face and brushed a chunk of hair away from it to get a better look.

Well. Not as bad as she'd thought. Good.

"Carlton." Juliet squeezed his shoulder, shook a little when he didn't wake at first. "Carlton!" she whispered. She wasn't sure why she was whispering.

He started, reached for a weapon that wasn't there.

"Carlton, it's me!"

"Huh...?" Lassiter blinked up at her groggily.

"Hey…"

He blinked at her again, and then his eyes cleared and she saw it register. "O'Hara!"

"Oh!" Carlton stood and locked onto her before she could tell him not to get up. They swayed a bit when he did, but Juliet stood her ground until he was steady against her shoulder. "Okay. Oh, Carlton…"

He just held on for a while. She decided it had been a good idea to come in here alone; Lassiter would be far beyond embarrassed later if Shawn were in here right now, and that was the last thing any of them needed to worry about at this point.

This used to be so awkward. They'd never hugged often. But it didn't bother her at all anymore. Something had changed the day they said goodbye. The day she found out Carlton would have given up his dream job to keep working with her. To keep her from moving away. It was like the last piece of any wall that kept them from calling what they had what it was—a friendship, and a close one—fell that day. Of course Carlton still used his own words— _confidante, important_ —but she knew what he meant.

When he pulled back Carlton took her shoulders, mostly because he seemed to need the steadying, she thought, but it didn't matter.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

He just shook his head. There was no good way to answer that.

"What time is it?" he asked instead, making that right-the-real-world-exists face. She'd seen it before, on stakeouts or long nights in the office on tough cases. Once or twice waking up like this, after he'd drifted off and face planted in a pile of files on his desk. Juliet was relatively certain she was only one who'd ever been allowed to see that.

"Two thirty?"

He nodded, like he should have known. And then Carlton really looked at her.

"You came," he said.

"I will _always_ come, partner. You should know that." Juliet made a face, what she was sure was a poor imitation of Shawn and Gus. "Come on, son." If there was ever a time Lassiter needed a laugh, it was now.

It did the trick. He chuckled once, tiredly, but at least he did. "Tell me again why you have to marry _Spencer_?"

"Just to annoy you," Juliet smiled. "Now sit back down. I'll get my own chair."

For once, Carlton did at he was told. "You don't have to—"

"What else am I gonna do?" She snagged a chair from by the wall and pulled it close to his. "Well until they kick me out, anyway."


	7. Chapter 7

So sorry this took longer than I thought, ya'll! The delays started with having a flat when I got back from my trip and having to deal with that, and walmart, and catching up at work, and meh, and...so on. Anyway, sorry again, and thanks so much for reading! I can't wait to hear from ya'll!

Chapter 7

July 2030

There were so many people here. Far more than Henry had expected, for some reason. The funeral itself had been packed out further. It baffled him, and it probably shouldn't have.

It also made him want to cry, but he didn't do that in front of people.

He was alone for now. He'd lost track of his ex-wife in the crowd some time ago. But she was staying here, so he knew Maddie would turn up eventually.

Henry Spencer was content to sit where he was, in a dining room chair lined up against the wall of the living room—just far enough out of the way that he wasn't noticed so much, but not so far that anyone wondered where he was. He could nod at people when they nodded at him, when they offered condolences, but something about his position adjacent to a dark corner discouraged them from really trying to strike up a conversation. He preferred it that way.

His only granddaughter was the single person not discouraged, and that he didn't mind. She found him, perched on the chair beside him, and for a while she said nothing. Their relationship was such that this didn't bother either of them.

She was tall, for thirteen, with Shawn's hazel eyes and Juliet's dark blonde hair. Considering her parents and grandparents it was more likely that she'd hit her growth spurt early and would never be much taller, but for now she was taller than many of her peers. Often she seemed older, too—she'd matured faster than her father ever had—but now was not one of those times.

"I can't find Mom," she said finally.

Henry draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. "She'll come out when she's ready. How are you doing?"

"Can I go hide, too?"

He kissed the side of head. "Just stay here with me. This corner's like magic."

They were quiet for a while longer after that. His granddaughter tucked her legs under her in her chair and leaned further into him.

"Can we play a game?" she asked.

Henry smiled to himself, just a little. "Sure. How many hats are in the room?"

* * *

May 2014

Something woke Juliet, and she didn't know where she was at first. She expected to find herself in her bed. The case was wrapped up and she was going to finish her paperwork, and then go home and crash...but her back and neck said otherwise. Then she thought maybe she was at her desk, but she was leaning back rather than forward. The colors around her were wrong.

The chair was fake wood, hard arms and a bad cushion. Her feet were propped in another. What happened?

It came back when she registered the hospital equipment beeping and humming. She sat up, pulling her feet out of the other chair and lowering them back to the floor. Her neck twinged and she groaned a little. When her vision cleared Carlton was looking at her. He hadn't moved from his station at Marlowe's bedside.

"I fell asleep…"

Her former partner's eyebrow went up, clearly saying _now you're just stating the obvious_.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked.

"Uhm...Thursday night?" It was still coming out scratchy, and she cleared her throat. "Thanks for the prop-up."

"You were about to end up on the floor, and I thought that might be embarrassing."

Juliet snorted in amusement and stretched. "How long was I out?" she asked, looking for her phone.

"An hour or so."

"Shoot. I was supposed to go back out there long enough to let Shawn know how you were doing…" At that _both_ of Carlton's eyebrows went up, and then drew together. "What? Shawn can't care, too?"

Lassiter let out a breath and shook his head. He looked away, studying Marlowe's still fingers in his. "Maybe I should stop letting things like that surprise me."

"What do you mean?"

He still wouldn't look at her. "I mean...most of the time I'm not very good at telling people what they...mean to me. I told you that before you left. And...Marlowe is the exception. It's so easy…" He trailed off, grimaced and reigned himself in. Cleared his throat. He glanced up at Juliet, but not for long. "I'm not any better at noticing how people feel about _me_. Most of the time I don't care."

Now she knew how exhausted he was himself. He was getting personal. Juliet leaned over her knees, resting her elbows on them. "Well I think that last part's a lie."

Maybe he would have answered. Maybe he even would have admitted it. But a nurse knocked on the open door to get his attention, and the conversation was over.

Juliet sat back in her chair, trying to be unobtrusive as Carlton got up to speak briefly with the woman at the door. She didn't get up until something in Lassiter's posture changed. She didn't know what it was, looking at his back. She hadn't meant to be staring at all, but now she couldn't stop. The nurse was leaving, and Carlton was leaning heavily in the doorway.

His shoulders went up and down and Juliet's stomach dropped to her shoes.

"Carlton?" Her shins banged the chair as she tried to get around it and to his side. "Ow...Carlton!"

She grabbed his shoulder, and she realized she was terrified of what she'd see when he turned around. As soon as she saw his face she would know. _Lily…_

"Lily's okay."

Juliet blinked. "What?"

Lassiter turned enough to press his back into the doorframe instead of a shoulder. There were tears on his face, but he was smiling weakly. "Lily's going to be fine," he breathed, like he'd been holding a breath before. "She's um...she's been stable since she came out of surgery. They're expecting a full recovery. They're sure now. She's fine. She'll be fine…"

"Oh thank god…"

Juliet hugged him, leaned into him maybe more than she'd intended, and maybe this time she needed the support as much as he did. She gasped a breath of her own, and she didn't know whether she was laughing or crying.

This wasn't over, but knowing that was so much better than nothing.

* * *

February 2030

The birthday party was mostly up in Lily's room now that the main festivities were over, and it was entirely teenage girls up there—including Shawn's, who'd officially been a teenager since November. Damnit.

But today was about Lily, and it was so much easier to pick on Lassiter. Shawn found him on the back porch, nursing a lemonade and looking like he wished it were something else.

"Better make sure you know where all three billion of your guns are, Lassie. _You_ now have a sixteen year old daughter."

"And in less than three years, so will you," Lassiter retorted. He pushed the elbow Shawn had rested on his shoulder away, and Shawn overbalanced as Lassiter stalked away toward the porch swing Lily had asked for when she was seven.

"So?" Shawn called, searching for a comeback. "Gus is on-again with your _sister_!"

Lassie stopped, turned around again with a glare, and stalked back. Then the facade dissolved, and he rolled his eyes and smirked. "Pub later?"

Shawn nodded sagely. " _So_ much alcohol. Later." He pushed the sliding door open just enough to call back into the house where the other adults were sequestered. "Gus! Man time on the later!"

Gus ducked into view to give him a _Why you gotta be like that?_ gesture. "Lauren and I have plans tonight, Shawn."

"Fine! Abandon me!" He closed the door and shrugged back at Lassiter. "Just us then."

"What about Henry?"

"Lassie, my maker is _old_ now. Alcohol isn't good for his health."

"He could still save me from having to be alone with you."

"You hurt me, Lassie. You act like we've never had alone time before. In fact, I think the first time was merely a few months after we met. Unintentional, certainly, but a good time was had by all. I believe my favorite part was the famous table-forehead altercation. Which you totally deserved, after the _my_ -forehead-car-door incident during our first case."

"I really hate your memory sometimes, Spencer."

"Sometimes, so do I."

* * *

May 2014

O'Hara ducked out to check in with the others in the waiting room. Carlton planned to see his daughter, but first he went back to his wife's bedside.

"Did you hear that?" he asked. He took her hand again and sat on the edge of the bed this time. "Lily's going to be fine. Our daughter is okay." He wanted to say more, but he didn't know what, and his throat was clogged as it was.

Carlton kissed the hand in his. "I'll be back soon. I love you…"

* * *

Shawn was the only one awake when Jules finally came back out to the waiting room. Gus was snoring again and even Henry had dozed off over his crossed arms where he sat.

"Hey," Shawn said quietly. He reached out for her hands and Jules took them and sat beside him. She still looked tired, but she was smiling. "What's up? Good news?"

"Lily's fine," she said, and kissed him.

"Awesome. That's something. Where's Lassie?"

"He was headed over to see her."

"Do they know anything else about Marlowe?"

"Not yet." Jules cocked her head at him. "What are you still doing here? You could have gone."

"We're your ride, sweetheart."

"Your dad is here."

He shrugged. "So? Anyway, as long as you were back there please tell you at least fell asleep or something."

"Yeah. I got some rest. You didn't tell me why you're still here."

"Well where else am I gonna go? Unless they get a hit there's nothing we can do in the middle of the night."

Jules's interest seemed piqued. "There's something you can do in the morning? Do you have another lead?"

"Not so much a lead as a hunch," he admitted. "Brannigan got us into the files last night. Or the night we got here. Whatever you want to call it. Anyway, I read Lassie's report from what happened with Salamatchia in the graveyard—what went down before we got there. Salamatchia was talking about going through a divorce."

"So?"

"So his ex-wife's place would probably be the last place he'd think _we_ would think he was. It's too obvious."

"I'm sure they checked with her after the escape."

Shawn nodded. "The LAPD did. She's down in LA now. He wasn't there. And he probably didn't think anything of not cleaning up Petrovich's place when he was done, cause he knew we'd know who did it, but being able to confirm he was there did one thing, Jules. It tipped his hand. We know his strategy now."

Jules looked at him for a minute, frowning, tired and trying to catch up. But she was her, and she was amazing, so of course she did.

"He's doing exactly what we would assume he wouldn't do—everything that should be too easy, but if you add _time_ …"

"He thinks that'll throw us off," Shawn finished, agreeing. "But it won't. We're onto him now. Or I am. Because I'm that awesome."

"You want to go find the ex-wife. You think he went back there."

"Or maybe not _back_ , just there _now_." He yawned. "I've already got the address."

Jules seized his hands again. "You're not going by yourself."

Shawn grinned. "Of course not; I'll drag Gus along."

" _No_. I'm serious. It's the LAPD's jurisdiction; we'll call and get them to get a warrant and check again. Thoroughly. I mean…" She made a face. "I mean we'll get Brannigan to call them and...everything. Since she's the one who actually works in Santa Barbara now."

Shawn wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her down to rest against him. "It's ok. It's fine, Jules. Can we talk about this in the morning?" He yawned again.

"If you're going to drive tomorrow you need real sleep in a real bed," she mumbled into his chest.

He snorted. "Said the pot to the kettle. It's only like an hour or two! And what, you're gonna let me now?"

"No. I don't know."

"Go to sleep, Jules."

* * *

Juliet rested on her fiance's shoulder, but she couldn't go back to sleep. Shawn fell asleep, finally, which she was glad of. Gus snored on. Henry woke up and waved at her, but stayed quiet. Juliet waved back.

She didn't know how long they stayed there, but she was the first on her feet when Lassiter hurried back through the waiting room. He wasn't looking for them, and he wasn't stopping. He was headed back in the direction of his wife's room, and Juliet could already hear the commotion coming from the corridor on the other side of the double doors.

"Carlton?" she called.

"Marlowe!" he called back. Then he was gone.

"Oh my god...Shawn! Wake up, get up! Gus!" Juliet twisted to shake them, but Shawn was already awake from her pushing off of him. She hauled him up.

"What?" he was asking.

She didn't know what. And if it was bad there was nothing they could do, but she wasn't just going to sit here.

"Marlowe. Come on," she said urgently, dragging him for the door. Henry had Gus.

Someone tried to stop the four of them at the doors, and Juliet was glad she still had her badge in one of her pockets. She waved it just long enough for the nurse to tell what it was, but hopefully not long enough for her to really look at it. If she did, she'd know it was the wrong city.

"I can't let _all_ of you—"

"Can it!" Juliet growled. She shoved the badge back into her pocket and didn't break her stride. They pushed through the doors.

"Jules, you're so sexy," Shawn said. He was definitely awake now.

"Not the time, Shawn."

Carlton was already halfway down the hall at Marlowe's door, shouting because he wasn't in yet. "-chief of the Santa Barbara Police Department, and that is my _wife_!"

He disappeared into the room.

"He'll be in the way in there," Henry said, anxious.

"I've got it," Juliet answered, as they caught up.

It was exactly as bad as it could have been. A crash cart and a whole team were in the room. The monitors were screaming. She swallowed hard, and Shawn froze beside her. She didn't like the look on his face, but she had to let go of him. She found Henry's eyes, and didn't let go until he'd nodded at her and taken his son's arm.

"I'm going in. It'll be okay; stay here, okay?" she asked. Shawn didn't meet her eyes for long. He barely nodded in answer and she didn't want to go until he did, but it would have to do.

Juliet ducked into the room under the radar. Lassiter knew enough that he'd found a corner to back into out of the way, but he was still shouting at people and that couldn't be helping.

"What's happening!"

The monitors were still whining, still blaring the fact that his wife had no pulse. Juliet got to him just before he surged forward.

"Carlton!" She caught him, held him back. "Carlton, let them do their job. They know what they're doing. Don't..."

Thank god, he didn't fight her. He knew she was right. She held onto him and felt him shaking, breathing too hard.

"What's happening?" he gasped.

* * *

"Dad, what's happening?"

In the corridor Henry still had Shawn's arm, lest he launch himself into the fray. "Her heart stopped, son."

Shawn would know that. Surely Shawn Spencer, of all people, had watched enough television to know what was happening. Henry knew that. He also knew that his son didn't deal well with the harsher parts of reality-not when they affected anyone he cared for. Shawn could hunt murderers all day, even put himself in danger, but endanger anyone he cared about and he unraveled at the seams.

"But they'll start it, and-and she'll be fine. She'll be fine, right?" Shawn demanded.

"They're trying."

Henry looked at Gus, and Gus shook his head.

"I don't want to hear they're _trying_! She'll be fine. She has to be. Right, Dad? Dad?"

Henry didn't answer, because he couldn't.

"Dad!"

* * *

Juliet went in to support her partner, but she was the one who was already crying when the medical team stopped trying to revive Marlowe. When they shut the whining monitors off and the room was suddenly, strangely quiet.

It wasn't quiet for long. Carlton shouted at them. Juliet still had to hold him back when the doctor came to speak to him while the others cleared away. The man was trying to apologize.

"Just go," Juliet snapped at him.

It wasn't his fault, but she had to say it. She had to make him leave. Lassiter would have yelled at him all night.

* * *

"No! Hey! What are you doing?" Shawn was trying to stop the medical team leaving. He was grabbing at scrub sleeves, motioning wildly back to the room.

"Shawn," Henry said. He was trying to pull his son back, farther from the door.

"Where are you going! You have to get back in there!" Shawn protested.

Henry was apologizing to the nurses, urging them on, still tugging Shawn back. "Shawn!"

"You have to save her! You can't just—!"

"Shawn!" He wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him close. Shawn fought him.

"We can't let them—!"

"Shawn, it's over! It's over…"

* * *

No beeping monitors left, no doctors or nurses. Only Lassiter's harsh breaths and Juliet's own sniffing.

There was noise in the corridor, maybe shouting. Definitely shouting. Shawn. Henry. It was right there, but it seemed so far away.

"Carlton…I'm so sorry."

She didn't know what else to say. The only time in her life she'd felt more helpless was bound and gagged in a chair, dangling from a clock tower.

* * *

Shawn wrenched away from him. He just stood there for a moment, looking at them. At Henry, at Gus. Henry had nothing else for him, and neither did Guster.

Then Shawn spun and kicked the wall.

"Ow! Damnit!"

"Shawn!" Henry said.

"Shawn?" Gus echoed.

He ignored them. He walked away.

"Shawn, where are you going!" Henry called.

Shawn twisted, walked half backwards. "Somewhere I can _do_ something, Dad! I can't do _this_! I don't do…" He motioned toward the room. "This."

"Shawn…"

"No! Okay? I don't. You know that. You both know that. Gus, come on! We're out of here."

Henry looked at Gus, who shrugged apologetically and moved to follow his friend. Henry caught his shoulder. "Gus, don't let him do anything stupid…"

"You must be out of your damn mind. He doesn't listen to me!"

"You're the only one he _does_ listen to, other than Juliet."

"Then we're in trouble."

"Gus…"

"I'll do my best, okay? That's all I can do."

Henry swallowed and nodded, and let him go.

"Gus!" Shawn called, from the main doors.

Gus bounded after him. "I'm coming!"

* * *

A loud banging from the corridor, an impact on the wall, and Carlton started and seemed to snap from the stupor he'd been left in once everyone else had cleared from the room. Since he suddenly had no one to yell at anymore.

He pulled in an uneven breath and broke from Juliet's side. She let him go-let him go to the bed, to Marlowe. There were no tubes or wire or needles anymore. Just a silent, still form. Lassiter sat on the edge of the bed, but Juliet followed only to the end of it.

Some of the yelling from outside started to make sense. Shawn was leaving.

 _No. Don't leave. Where are you going? I need you._

"I don't understand," Lassiter said finally. His voice was flat.

Juliet's throat tightened again. "Carlton?"

"I don't understand," he said again. This time emotion creeped back. His voice broke. "This isn't the way it was supposed to end."

* * *

July 2030

The bathroom floor started out cold, but they'd been down here against the door long enough it wasn't so frigid anymore.

Juliet's head rested on Carlton's shoulder. She'd already cried again.

"How did you survive it?" she asked.

Carlton told the truth. "I had you."


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this took a week, it's just this stuff is harder to write. Longest chapter yet though! Thanks so much for the comments, everyone, I can't wait to hear from you!

NOTE: Maybe it's fan fiction, and maybe I'd be allowed to take it lightly, but I don't. I write this stuff because I love these characters, sure, but also because this stuff happens. Things happen suddenly to loved ones, and I've been there myself. I also have more than one extended friend "family" and I wouldn't have made it without them. (I am also a Christian, personally, and believe God has everything to do with it, including in bringing us those friends who help us, but this story will stay general and in character, no worries.)

This story is for anyone who's been through something like this, and for anyone who loves the family they've chosen. If you're part of mine, you know who you are.

Chapter 8

May 2014

"This isn't the way it was supposed to end," Carlton said.

His voice was quiet and desperate, and Juliet had no answer. She stood at the end of the bed and she didn't know what she should do. She took a step closer, and a hand came up instinctively, reached for him.

She pulled it back down. A moment ago she'd been holding onto him and now she didn't know whether she should touch him. She didn't know anything.

At least his back was turned as he hunched on the edge of the hospital bed. He didn't see her fumble.

"They…" Juliet had to clear her throat before anything else would come out. "They said take as much time as you need," she said. It came out barely a whisper, and then she did reach out again. She let her hand rest on his shoulder for a moment. Carlton nodded faintly, but he didn't turn.

"I'll be right outside, ok?"

Another small nod.

"Ok…" Juliet sighed.

* * *

"Shawn!"

Gus sprinted to catch up with Shawn, who was nearly halfway across the parking lot already. He made it just in time to jump into the passenger's seat of Juliet's green car before his best friend pulled away. The door barely closed behind him as they squealed off.

"Shawn, really? This isn't even your car," he said, holding tightly to the ceiling handle.

"Shut up, Gus."

He didn't take the rudeness personally. Not when Shawn was this worked up.

"Shawn…" Gus said more gently. "Are you sure you want to leave right now? Lassie—"

"Has Jules. And my dad, if that counts. And we have more important things to do."

"More important than being there for our _friend_ , Shawn? And yes, I _know_ it's weird I'm the one pointing out that Lassie is our _friend_. The relationship may not be traditional, but he is. Even _I'm_ willing to put aside our usual dynamic to admit that at a time like this. What could possibly be more important than that?"

Shawn snorted. "He's _Lassiter_ , Gus. He wants Jules. He even likes my _dad_ more than he likes either of us, and you know it. He doesn't want us there. He sure as hell doesn't want us there _now._ " He was pounding on the steering wheel to punctuate his point. "And _what's_ more important than being there with Lassie? Gee, I don't know, maybe _finding_ the son of a bitch who murdered his _wife_!"

Shawn's voice splintered on the last sentence, and he had to stop and clear his throat and blink. Gus swallowed hard.

"How are we supposed to do that right now? We haven't heard anything from Brannigan."

"We don't need Brannigan," Shawn said, far too confident.

Gus regarded him skeptically. "What are you talking about?" He realized then that Shawn was headed for the interstate. "Shawn! Where are we going!"

"Los Angeles."

"It's barely five in the morning!"

"Then it'll be at least six thirty by the time we get there. That's not so bad. Old ladies get up early, don't they?"

* * *

Henry was still in the hall, alone, when Juliet emerged from the room and closed the door behind her. She looked around once, saw it was only him out here now, and leaned against the wall beside him.

"Shawn's gone, isn't he?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"How bad was it?"

Henry shrugged. "On a scale of relatively to pretty damn? Probably worse. Gus went with him. Maybe he'll be able to keep him out of trouble."

"Fat chance of that," Juliet sighed. She scrubbed at her face, but her hands didn't come back down. Instead she doubled over and sobbed quietly, and Henry caught her around the shoulders to hold her up.

The lapse didn't last long, but when she straightened he left an arm around her.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed. "I'm sorry, I just—I can't believe this is happening…" She gulped a difficult breath. "I...god. Before I left I told him everything happens for a reason. It was _crap_. What the hell kind of lie was that? How could I do that? There's no reason for this!"

"I'm sure you believed it then."

Juliet was shaking her head, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "He said...he said 'this isn't the way it was supposed to end.' In there. H-he said that. And of course it isn't! How could it be? I...I couldn't say anything. What was I _supposed_ to say? What was I supposed to tell him?"

"Juliet...Juliet, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, I did! I _left_!"

Well. Then that was what this was about.

"You didn't have a choice," Henry reminded her. "Shawn told me what happened. You'd have been transferred somewhere else if you hadn't gone with Karan."

She was still shaking her head. "He wanted to give it up. Carlton...he would have given it up for me. We could have just...we could have gone back. To the way things were. I-I wouldn't let him. I made him take the job. And I left. I _left_. How could I do that?"

Henry squeezed her shoulders. "You did the right thing. It was time for a change, and letting him give up that step forward wouldn't have been any good for either of you. You needed to take one yourself. This did not happen because you weren't here. You haven't second-guessed yourself until now, have you? Why start?"

Juliet doubled over again, leaning hard back into the wall, hands on her knees. This time is was only deep breaths. Henry rubbed her back in circles until she came up again, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"You done?" Henry asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Crap…"

He could feel her shivering. She let her hands drop from her face and crossed her arms tightly. Henry rubbed her arms until she warmed again and she was calm.

"Ok. I'm ok," she said, clearing her throat.

Henry nodded and let go of her, going back to simply leaning against the wall beside her. "I'm starting to feel like the guilt police," he said.

Juliet snorted a sudden, gulping laugh at that. "Yeah. Why am I not surprised?" She grimaced, and the pained humor faded to worry as her gaze strayed to the closed door. "He wanted to blame himself for the accident somehow, didn't he?"

"Pretty much."

"Idiot," she murmured. She let out a new breath, and her eyes closed tiredly. "At least we know Lily's ok."

Henry straightened, heart pounding. "We do?"

Juliet's eyes opened wide. "What? Yes!" She studied him briefly. "Sorry...I'm sorry, you'd drifted off when I told Shawn. They said so about an hour ago, I guess. She'll be fine. She just needs a few days here to recover, from surgery and...you know, everything else."

Relief. It had been awhile since he'd felt something like that so strongly. Not since the last time Shawn had nearly gotten himself killed, anyway. It took him by surprise, how much tension was suddenly gone and how his vision misted so quickly. Certainly he'd never felt this way for anyone who wasn't Shawn or Maddie.

 _Damnit. Gone and gotten attached..._

"Henry?" Juliet, peering over at him, concern written in the way her eyebrows were bunching together.

"Yeah." He coughed once to cover clearing his own throat. "Sorry. Fine."

* * *

Juliet wasn't sure what she expected to see when Lassiter emerged from the room, but for some reason—even though she knew him—the mask of composure he'd put on was not something she was ready for.

He closed the door behind him, looked at them blankly, and for some reason it broke her heart all over again.

"Anything from Brannigan?" he asked.

"No," Henry supplied. "I'm sorry."

Juliet got the feeling he was apologizing for more than the lack of news—a condolence slipped in in disguise—and Carlton nodded silently as if he got it.

Sometimes she wondered why she surrounded herself with people who were completely incapable of dealing with their emotions in a normal, healthy fashion. Everything done too loudly, or not handled at all.

Then again, maybe it had something to do with the fact that she wasn't sure if she dealt with her own any better. Often she fancied herself more mature than the rest of them, but sometimes she wondered if she were merely _differently_ mature.

But now was not the time for deep inner thoughts. Lassiter was stalking off down the corridor with a purpose, and that could not be good.

"Carlton?" Juliet took a running step or two to catch up with him, and Henry followed. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"To the station."

"You need rest. Maybe you should let us take you home so you can try to get some real sleep. At least try. Lily's going to be fine; there's nothing more you can do here."

She'd hoped reminding him of the one good thing they had going for them right now would help, but it bounced off of him as if he hadn't heard. "I'm fine," he quipped shortly.

"You have a concussion."

"One of us can stay with you," Henry pointed out.

"You both need sleep yourselves," Lassiter countered. He slowed to a stop and rounded on them. "Especially you, O'Hara. Go home."

"My home is in San Francisco, Carlton."

He made a face at that, and then glanced around as if he'd just realized it was only the three of them. "Where are Spencer and Guster?"

Juliet crossed her arms and sighed. "Not here."

"Right…" Carlton trailed. "And they probably have the key to Guster's place with them." He dug in his pocket and pressed his own keys into her hand. "Have Henry take you to the house. You can sleep there. There's still furniture and everything in the guest room; he threw it in, said he had no use for it."

"Really more of a closet with a bed," she remembered, from the grand tour the first time Henry invited them over for dinner, once it was public knowledge she and Shawn were dating.

"It's _there_ ," Carlton stressed. "Hell, Spencer's old bed is still in Lily's room if you'd like that better. There are no sheets on that one though…" He shook his head, maybe to clear his train of thought. "Just sleep, O'Hara. You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks. You look worse."

He rolled his eyes and started walking again. She noticed he was doing much better on that front—not toppling over—but he still wasn't entirely steady.

"Carlton! You don't have a car, and you shouldn't be driving anyway. How are you going to get anywhere?"

"I'll have Brannigan pick me up."

"And then what?"

"I'll be there. I'll _help_. You said it yourself; there's nothing I can do here. What do you want from me, O'Hara?"

"I want you to stop being stupid!" Juliet grabbed at his arm, but he didn't stop. "Carlton!"

She swung into his way, latched onto both of his forearms, planted her feet, and ground them to a stop just short of the double doors that led out into the waiting room. Henry hovered behind them in case he was needed.

"Carlton, _stop_ ," Juliet said. "You are _smarter_ than this. You _know_ you can't get involved in this case. Not only are you about as emotionally involved as anyone could be, but you were _in_ that crash. You were hurt. You're a victim. You know the rules better than anyone, and you know you have to sit this one out."

Lassiter didn't try to get around her. He gripped the arms that held his and went quiet for a moment. The look in eyes she'd seen in that hospital room came back—lost, confused. It didn't go away, but before he looked her in the eyes and spoke again anger had clouded it.

"Why?"

"What?" Juliet swallowed.

" _Why_?" Carlton repeated. He continued quietly, and somehow it was far more frightening than if he'd shouted. "Salamatchia has to be found. He threatened my family. He tried to kill _all_ of us, and he's succeeded in taking my _wife_ from me, O'Hara. Don't I deserve to go after him myself?"

Her stomach twisted in her gut. Over Lassiter's shoulder she caught a glimpse of Henry shifting anxiously, inching closer, sensing the same danger she did.

"Not according to the law." Juliet answered evenly, but it came out scarcely audible. She didn't have enough air. "You can't, Carlton. You have to keep your head here. You're the chief of police, and you have your daughter to think about. Don't do anything you'll regret."

"I wouldn't regret killing him," he growled.

Juliet squeezed his arms tighter. She curled her fingers and let her fingernails dig in and hoped it helped her reach him. "Yes, you would."

His breaths were coming shorter and quicker, and his eyes wandered.

"Carlton! Carlton, _look at me_." He wouldn't, or he just didn't hear her anymore, and she reached up to his face and made him. "Carlton, _please_."

She didn't mind that her voice cracked. When it did Carlton blinked, and he held her gaze long enough to visibly calm. His breathing slowed and some of the tension in his shoulders drained. Most of the anger melted away, at least for now, and he just looked exhausted.

Juliet let out a breath of relief and pulled him into an embrace. Henry relaxed and squeezed his shoulder.

"Do you want us to take you home?" she asked when she let Lassiter go. Well...she hadn't quite let go of him entirely. She was still rubbing his arms as if that might do any good. As if she could fix anything. As if the small amount of added warmth might make anything better.

Carlton shook his head. "No, I um...I think I'll just go back to Lily's room." He looked down to check that Juliet still had his keys. They were hooked around her thumb. "You should go."

She didn't plan to, but she kept the keys and pushed them into her pocket so at least he'd think maybe she would. Also so she'd know if he decided on anything different later. He'd have to come looking for her and his keys if he did. "Is there a couch or something in Lily's room? Or near there?" she asked.

"It's mostly vinyl, but yeah," he said dully.

" _Use_ it."

"Right…"

Juliet and Henry followed him as far as the waiting room and let him go. Juliet made sure he was headed the right direction before she spun on Henry.

"Oh god. Shawn. What did he say when he was leaving? Where did he say he was going?" she asked quickly.

After all of that, now that her mind was more clear, she was realizing just how likely it was that her fiance was up to something just as stupid as what Carlton wanted to do.

"Just...somewhere he could do something," Henry answered. "That's all he said."

"Crap," Juliet swore. "I can try Shawn, but I don't have Brannigan's number. Do you?"

"No, but she's probably still at the station. Do you know something I don't know?"

She nodded, already digging her phone from her pocket. "We both know he's an idiot, but what you don't know is he already had a relatively likely hunch he could be idiotically following right now."

* * *

"Shawn, this is a bad idea. This an _awful_ idea. What are we doing?"

"We're dispensing Justice, because Lassie can't without losing his job. Also because he can't stand up straight right now."

Gus shook his head. "That is not what I meant. It's a bad idea for you to be doing this when you're this upset. It was a bad idea when your dad got shot, and it's a bad idea now."

"Well we got the guy then, didn't we?"

"That's not the point, Shawn."

He didn't answer, and there was nothing but the drone of wind and the car bouncing in rhythm over the inconsistencies in the interstate pavement.

When Shawn's phone started to ring, he picked it up, took one look, and put it down without answering it.

"Shawn—"

"It's Jules. She'll just tell us to turn around."

"And she'd be right. If you're gonna do this again, where's my out?"

"You want an out in the middle of the interstate?" Shawn questioned.

"You could always pull over somewhere, you know."

He seemed offended. "Buddy! I wouldn't leave you in the middle of nowhere!"

"This isn't nowhere, Shawn. It's the interstate. There are gas stations."

"Come on, son. You wouldn't take the out, anyway."

"It would still be nice to be offered one! What happened to the rules? Don't you still have to give me one?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. " _Fine_. This is your out, Gus. Do you want out?"

Gus made a smacking sound and an _Are you crazy?_ face. "No. How else am I supposed to keep _you_ alive if I don't stay?"

"Thank you. See? I told you. Man, we have really got to review these rules sometime soon. They just waste time."

"I beg to differ."

* * *

Juliet tried three times, but there was no answer from Shawn. She kept trying until Henry, several feet away on his own phone, hung up. She shoved hers back in her pocket and met him in the middle of the short space they'd claimed at the fringes of the waiting room.

"He's not answering," she said.

"I didn't think he would. I filled Brannigan in, though. She'll get in touch with the LAPD, but there's no knowing how quickly they'll be able to get someone over there. And that's after she gets through," Henry sighed.

He looked at his watch. Juliet looked at her phone, trying to figure out how long Shawn and Gus had been gone and how much longer it would take them to get to Salamatchia's ex-wife's house.

"Should we go after them?" she asked.

"You could get in just as much trouble doing that as Carlton could going after Salamatchia on his own. You could get in trouble for flashing your badge back there."

Juliet wanted to say she didn't care. She didn't. But she was supposed to be the reasonable one.

"It's been half an hour," Henry reminded her. "If they hit the road as soon as they left—and knowing Shawn they did if that's what he's doing—we wouldn't catch them before they got there. Not in my truck, which is all we've got right now. And we'd waste just as much time going back to the station for your duty car."

She swore again. "You're right."

"Keep calling him."

"Yeah." Juliet took a deep breath and realized she was shaking again.

Henry frowned. "You're weak. If you won't sleep, let's at least get you something considerably more substantial to eat than coffee."

"As long as there can be coffee, too."

* * *

The house was in the middle of a small but teeming retirement community, and not seemingly the best place for hiding.

Which, of course, probably made it all the better.

Dogs barked at their unfamiliar car as they drove through the gradually lightening streets looking for the right house number, Shawn wincing because he knew something like that would have alerted _him_ immediately. He didn't know about Salamatchia.

All of the lights were off in the house they were looking for. Shawn drove past and parked around the corner on the street.

"Are you coming?" he asked Gus, who'd been quiet the rest of the way.

In answer, his best friend unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door.

"Thanks, man."

There was only one car in the driveway of the house—not the one Salamatchia had been driving—but there were faint tire tracks behind it in the dust on the concrete that did not match the tires on the car that was there.

Also, it was almost seven and, again, there were no lights. If the woman who lived here was anything near typical of people her age, that wasn't a good sign either.

"Shawn, you have deduction face," Gus said quietly.

Shawn nodded and pulled him behind the bushes at the edge of the driveway. "I think we're too late."

"Too late for what?"

"I don't know."

"Real helpful, Shawn."

Shawn's phone started to ring again, and he pulled it out and hurriedly put it on silent. "Come on," he said.

He led them on a circuitous route up to the front door, ducking under windows and pressing himself theatrically to the front of the house. Gus just stayed low and stuck with him.

The front door was unlocked. "Well, that's bad," Shawn announced in a whisper.

"You think? We should go back to the car and call the police here. Or at least Juliet or Brannigan. We should _not_ go in there," Gus insisted.

"But if we didn't we wouldn't be us, would we?" With that he pulled the door open further and slipped inside.

"Shawn!" Gus called softly. He followed, though, because he always did. He closed the door carefully and quietly behind them. By then Shawn was standing in the entryway, and he didn't need his keen observational skills to know there was something wrong here. There were knick-knacks in the entry and living room that were clearly out of place, a smashed vase—so cliche—and above all, it just _felt_ wrong in here.

"I don't like this," Gus said, at his shoulder now.

Shawn nodded in agreement and followed the trail of destruction to the hallway. There were too doors standing slightly ajar, but the particularly mussed grain of the carpet in front of the door at the end led him there. He crept down the hallway, still listening for anything out of the ordinary. He heard nothing, which told him they were alone for now, but this was still bad.

"You may want to stay out here, Buddy," he said. Gus looked at him with that slightly-sick face that said _I know I'm not gonna like this, but I'm with you all the way._

Shawn carefully inched the bedroom door open. He was sort of expecting what he saw there, but that didn't make it any less crappy to find Salamatchia's ex-wife dead in a nightgown and bathrobe at the foot of the bed.

There was a pool of blood under the older woman's head that suggested she'd been clubbed with something rather than shot—probably still with a gun though, from the looks of it. There was no bloody blunt object lying around, either. Maybe Salamatchia hadn't wanted to fire a weapon in the middle of the night in such a populated area. Smart. Damn. Though how no one had heard the fight that obviously led to this was beyond him.

"Oh, man," Gus moaned.

"He's lost it," Shawn agreed. His stomach was twisting. "He lost it in there. He's completely off his rocker now; he has to be. Before he just wanted some sick form of justice for his son's death and on Lassie for not being able to put Petrovich away on a bigger charge. It was all about _something_. This is just...crazy."

"Maybe he started to blame her for not noticing their son was involved with drugs?" Gus suggested weakly.

"Maybe…but he'd have to blame himself, too. I don't know, man."

They backed out of the room and down the hall.

" _Now_ we should call the police. This is a crime scene," Gus said urgently.

"I think you're right. I think he's gone. There's nothing for us here. Just let me look around some more to make sure."

"Shawn!"

"If you want to go to the car, go to the car, okay? I'll be right there."

Gus whimpered a little, but stuck with him.

* * *

Juliet was full now, and a little more awake, but that didn't make worrying any easier. They'd been trying to reach Shawn and Gus for more than an hour, and they still weren't picking up their phones.

"The LAPD called Brannigan back," Henry said, hanging up his cell. "They've got a couple of black and whites headed that way, finally. She traced Shawn's cell phone to the area, too. They're there."

"Please tell me Brannigan told the LAPD to pick them up."

"Oh, she did. They're not getting into any more trouble today."

She sat down for the first time in twenty minutes. The cafeteria chairs were no more comfortable than the waiting room chairs, and she squirmed trying to find a good position. "They'll call when they have them?"

"They'll call."

* * *

Gus was ready to demand once more that Shawn give it up and come back to the car with him, when Shawn abruptly shoved him behind the couch in the living room.

"Gus, get down!"

"What? What's going on?" He stayed down.

"Crap...he's coming in the back…"

"He? _Salamatchia_?" Gus hissed.

He couldn't help noticing Shawn was not down. He was still standing, and in fact was in full view of the sliding glass doors that led to the fenced-in back yard.

"Yeah," Shawn confirmed.

"Then why aren't you hiding!"

"Stay here," he said, instead of answering.

Gus heard one of the sliding doors open with a bang, and Shawn was gone.

"Shawn!"

* * *

Salamatchia saw him. Shawn had meant for him too. He stayed exactly where he was, except maybe for creeping closer to the glass doors, and when the older man looked up halfway across the yard and saw Shawn standing in the living staring him down, he turned and started running.

Shawn ran after him.

The wooden door to the fence slammed shut in front of him. He got a splinter or two yanking it open again to follow Salamatchia into the alley.

The old guy was fast. He was already halfway down. At the end of the alley Shawn saw the nose of a car, the car they were looking for. Maybe Salamatchia had been out for supplies to take care of the body. Either way, if he got to the car they'd lose him again.

"Hey!" Shawn called. "Stop, you bastard! You think we'll let you go? We will find you, and the longer you drag this out the worse it's gonna be! HEY!"

Salamatchia turned enough while running to fire at him. Shawn flinched and stumbled, but the shot missed widely—enough it had to be purposeful.

"Don't follow me, son! I have no reason to hurt you!"

Shawn got his balance back. He looked up to find Salamatchia had paused to level his weapon at him. Shawn glared. He didn't move forward, but he didn't back up either. "You might wanna rethink that, cause I've got plenty of reasons to hurt you, you son of a bitch!"

"Is Lassiter dead?"

Shawn's fists clenched at his sides. "No. No, he's still alive and kicking, no thanks to you. You failed epically at that one. And what, you don't have the guts to follow through anymore?"

"He's the chief of the Santa Barbara Police Department now. It'd have been all over the news by later today if I'd succeeded."

"But you'd have been close enough here to try again if you didn't. Yeah. Sure. Nice one. Only thing is, it's _still_ gonna be all over the news. And maybe your escape wasn't that big a story to anyone outside Santa Barbara, but this will be."

Shawn realized he was kind of shaking. What was that about?

"Because you killed his _wife_ , you son of a bitch! The wife of the chief of the SBPD. Your face is gonna be everywhere, man, and you'll have to go _so_ much farther to find somewhere you can hide—so far you'll never get another chance. So you royally screwed up! You were a coward the way you did it, and it's over. You're done. Even if you get away right here, you're done."

The whole air thing was getting really hard. That was not going to be good when he started running again. Because he was going to. No way he was letting Salamatchia get away now, even if what he was saying was true.

The old guy stared him down for a while longer. What seemed like forever. Maybe processing. But he still had a gun pointed straight at him, so Shawn stayed put and calculated if he could get to him in time when he made a break for the car.

Shawn thought he could.

When it happened, he was ready. He thought he was ready. He had a plan, but it didn't come off as smoothly as he'd envisioned. He couldn't be blamed for the fact that the guy had special ops training. It was rusty, maybe, and the guy was old, but it was still special ops training.

Shawn went for the gun, mostly because he didn't want to get shot. They grappled, it went off in the air, and he had about a tenth of a second as the butt of the thing came for his face to realize this whole thing had indeed been a really, really stupid idea.

Then everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

Yay real life and work and special events and whatnot...meh, lol.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, everybody! You all make my day!

Chapter 9

May 2014

"Gus, slow down!" Juliet was saying. "I can't understand you. _What_ happened?"

Henry got to his feet. Juliet was already up, pacing around the small cafeteria table they'd claimed in a corner, pressing the phone to her ear trying to hear better over the dull drone of the public space. Her eyebrows climbed higher the more she listened, and her free hand clenched into a fist.

"What you mean he—?"

She stopped pacing. She looked at him, and Henry stopped breathing.

"You're sure?" Juliet asked quietly.

Henry could hear the faint sound of Gus still talking, rapid-fire, but he couldn't make out the words. Juliet didn't seem to be listening anymore.

He wanted to reach for the phone. When it started to slip from her hand he had an excuse to take it.

"Gus? Gus, what happened?" Henry asked.

"I...what? Y-you didn't hear?"

Juliet was frozen in place. He guided her back into a chair, trying to force his own panic back. "She didn't have it on speaker, Gus. We're in the middle of the hospital. Tell me what happened."

Guster was in panic mode, not taking enough pauses for breath and on the verge of tears. "I-I tried to stop him, I swear I did. I ran after them and he shot at me and everything. I had to dive behind a dumpster and he took off."

"What? Who?"

"Salamatchia! We got here, and he wasn't here, and then he was, and he ran and Shawn took off after him and I _told_ him not to. I _told_ him this was a bad idea, but he wouldn't listen! Now Salamatchia has him! H-he-he knocked him out. I'm pretty sure he just knocked him out. Had to be. I only heard one gunshot before I got out there and Shawn was still yelling at him after that."

"Gus, breathe!" Henry ordered.

"I...ok…"

It was more to give himself a break than anything. His brain had seized up somewhere around _Salamatchia has him_. Salamatchia had Shawn.

"What are we gonna do?" Gus questioned. "He's crazy! His ex-wife is dead here! He killed her! She just lying there; we hadn't even had a chance to call the police here yet."

A killer had Henry's son.

He swallowed hard and sunk into the chair opposite Juliet. "Gus, do you hear sirens?"

"What? I don't know! I…." He paused for a moment, and Henry heard them himself in the background. "Yeah."

"They're coming because Brannigan called them. They know you're there, and they know who you are. They know you didn't do any of this. I need you to go with them; you'll be safe with them. All right?"

"Ok...ok…"

"We'll find Shawn."

Henry stayed on the phone with Gus until the LAPD found him. Until he was sure everything was under control there. By then Juliet was squeezing his free hand across the table. She was staring into space, far too still for his comfort.

"Juliet…Juliet."

She blinked once and pulled in an unsteady breath, but she didn't look at him or at anything, really. "He's already killed twice in less than twenty-four hours, Henry. One less direct than the other, but…"

He knew what she meant.

 _How do we know he won't just kill Shawn? What if this only gets worse?_

* * *

Carlton watched his daughter sleep, painfully still awake himself.

He thought he'd be swimming in questions by now. He was a man of order, and there would be so much to deal with. So much to do. Arrangements to be made. He should be generating answers, but he couldn't make it past the part of the future where Lily had no mother.

It was so strange. Only months ago he wouldn't have gotten any farther than a blind need to know Salamatchia was off the streets—even if he had to make it happen himself. _Especially_ if he could make it happen himself. It wasn't as important as it would have been then.

Thank god for O'Hara...she'd brought him down, made him focus. With the rage stuffed in a corner now, all he could think about was Lily.

The smaller things, like who would he get to look after her during the day, once the summer was over and Henry Spencer began teaching again on weekdays? Who else could he trust to protect her? Bigger things, like what would her life be like now? Who would she look to? What was he supposed to tell her when she was old enough to ask why her mother was gone?

Could he even do this on his own?

Those were the only questions he could ask.

Part of him didn't mind. It kept him from thinking about what all of this meant for himself.

He didn't realize it was nearly eight until his phone rang, and he saw the time. He also saw that the call was from Spencer, and he nearly didn't answer it.

But he supposed even Shawn, as juvenile as he was, wouldn't call at a time like this if it weren't important.

"What do you want, Spencer?"

"Your friend is in the trunk of my car. If you want him to stay alive you'll meet me at the Petrovich place in two hours."

Salamatchia. Carlton was on his feet in an instant, even though it wouldn't do any good. He swayed a bit and cursed the fact he still wasn't at his best. "If you've hurt him—"

All he could see was O'Hara's face. All he could feel was how badly he didn't want her to be where he was now. In this hole he was sliding into, with this acid eating at his chest cavity.

 _Dammit, Spencer._

"He's _fine_. A bump on the head. If you don't want it to be worse—"

"I heard you the first time," Carlton snapped. "What do you want?"

A pause. "You know what I want, Lassiter."

Him, dead. Assuming nothing had changed.

Carlton leaned into the small bed. He wished Lily would open her little eyes and tell him what to do.

"Lassiter? If you don't show he won't be the only one to die. I'll find your daughter. I don't care how long it takes."

The decision was made, then.

"Give me three."

"What?"

"Hours, you idiot. I may need more time. I'm being watched." Only by overprotective friends, but that was more than enough to keep him from making it there. When it came to his, anyway.

Though he supposed—especially considering how his life had gone before these people—that he shouldn't complain about _having_ overprotective friends. Or any, really.

Another pause. "Fine," Salamatchia answered finally. "Three hours. No later than eleven."

"Fine," Carlton huffed.

With any luck Brannigan already knew Spencer had gotten himself into trouble and was tracing the phone. With any luck this would be over before anything went down.

But he had to be ready if that wasn't the case.

"Come _alone_ , Lassiter."

He snorted. "This isn't my first rodeo. What, no demand I come unarmed?"

"I know guys like you well enough to know you'd never do that no matter what threats I made," Salamatchia answered.

"Points for you." Was it wrong to be relieved to have something to focus on now?

"But if you're not alone, I'll kill him. I don't think that pretty little partner of yours would be very happy about that."

How did he know these things?

The silence must have asked the question for him. "I've done my homework," Salamatchia told him.

"Whatever. Get your kicks now; you'll be back in prison soon enough."

"We'll see."

"Hold it," Carlton said, before the other man could hang up. "Did you think I'd do this without proof Spencer was alive? Put him on. Now."

"You're not in much of a position to make demands," Salamatchia answered testily.

" _Now_."

There was a growling sigh on the other end of the line. A gun cocking, and the click, creak and groan of a trunk opening.

"Lassie! It's a trap!"

 _No shit, Spencer._ He'd been awake the whole time, listening.

At least now Carlton knew for sure Shawn was all right.

Wherever they were, the trunk slammed again. Spencer was still shouting, muffled by the metal and pounding on it.

"Three hours," Salamatchia reminded him. Then the line went dead.

* * *

Shawn had woken up when the road became rougher. A particularly sharp jolt sent his forehead into the trunk's metal lid, and he cried out and opened his eyes to the darkness and the rumbling of the car. His first thought was, _Great. Not again._

It didn't take long for the car to come to a stop. He heard Salamatchia get out, his shoes crunching through gravel, and Shawn knew they'd pulled off on a backroad somewhere.

He stayed quiet enough to catch most of the phone conversation. He wondered how Salamatchia had gotten Lassie's number until he patted down his pockets and realized his own phone was gone. Crap. All he could do was listen.

 _Don't do it, Lassie._

When Salamatchia opened the trunk he clearly hadn't expected Shawn to be awake already. Shawn hadn't expected to get a chance to say anything Lassiter could hear, and all he could think to say in the moment he had before a startled Salamatchia slammed the top down again was, "Lassie! It's a trap!"

Then the guy knew he was awake, and there was no point in being quiet anymore. Shawn pounded on the underside of the trunk lid as what could happen if Lassiter showed up sunk in.

"Lassie!"

Salamatchia would be found long before he could make any attempt on Lily's life. Especially now. Lassie had to know that. He wouldn't be that stupid. The only person at risk right now was Shawn himself, and that only because _he'd_ been stupid.

And if Lassiter showed up Salamatchia would do his best to kill him.

"Dammit, Lassie, not for me!"

* * *

"I assumed you were a boy, you know. Right up until you were born. Never even thought about the possibility of anything else. We wouldn't even let them tell us anything at the ultrasound."

Lily was still asleep, but when Carlton reached for her hand it opened and closed again around one of his fingers. She shifted in her sleep to pull his captive finger closer to her chest, like she wanted to curl around it, and he didn't know how he was going to walk out that door.

But he had to.

Carlton scrubbed a hand over his face and lowered himself back into the chair by the bed, just for a moment. He ran his fingers over the wispy light-colored hair on his daughter's head, and he smiled.

"I wouldn't trade you for a dozen boys," he whispered.

If anything happened, he wanted her to know.

* * *

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

Shawn didn't really wonder _how_ he could have been so stupid. It was kind of his MO. Usually he ignored the problems because his brand of stupid got results. His stupid solved cases. It caught criminals. It helped people.

Today all it seemed good for was making the worst day of Lassie's life worse.

He had to get out of here on his own. He'd done it before. It shouldn't be hard; he wasn't even shot this time, and thank god for _that_. His head was kind of spinning, but he could deal with that once he was out of this trunk. He had to get out, and find a phone, and call Lassiter to make sure he didn't go to the Petrovich place anyway. He could do this.

Shawn kicked the lid of the trunk again, just for good measure.

"Ow! Son of a—"

He stopped when he realized the car should have started moving again by now. He couldn't work on his escape if they weren't moving, if Salamatchia wasn't distracted.

He heard the crunching of gravel again outside the car. The trunk opened again, and then Salamatchia was over him holding a gun pointed straight at his head in one hand, and a tire iron in the other.

"Really, man? You could kill me with that thing."

The message was clear: if he moved, he'd be shot. Which he now knew from experience was worse than being clobbered again. Salamatchia wasn't going to take any chances of him being conscious enough to escape from the trunk.

"I know what I'm doing," the older man told him.

"Thanks, that makes me feel _so_ much better."

They stared at each other for a moment. The longer Salamatchia just stood there the faster Shawn's pulse decided to ratchet up.

Then he thought maybe he'd make a move anyway. It was worth it. Maybe he'd be fast enough this time. Or maybe he'd make it away with just a flesh wound. He'd done that before. Sure, it'd hurt a lot, but it'd be worth it to keep Lassie from putting himself in any more danger...especially since he was all Lily had now. Crap. Reality was just...really sucking, today.

 _Ok. I can do this. I can—_

Or Salamatchia could just kill him.

 _Damn._

Shawn was out of time to debate himself. Salamatchia seemed to think better of the tire iron, dropped it, and this time it was a fist aimed at his jaw.

* * *

"They found the ex-wife's body. They say she'd only been dead two or three hours. Either he took a while to get there, or they tried to work it out first," Henry told her, with a look on his face like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Juliet's arms were crossed. She didn't like having no real access to the case. Then again, at this point even Brannigan was only reporting when it came to anything going on in L.A. right now.

They'd moved out into a small courtyard in the middle of the hospital, to a bench under a tree that she couldn't sit down on for more than thirty seconds without jumping up again to pace. There was some light outside as the morning grew later and she'd thought maybe the fresh air would help.

It didn't.

"She probably had a problem with the fact that he's _killed people_ ," Juliet said bitterly. "What about Shawn?"

Henry shook his head. "They had a signal on his phone for a while, but they just lost it a few miles from the house. Salamatchia probably dumped it."

"And Salamatchia hasn't made any demands?" she questioned again.

"If he had, Brannigan would have called, Juliet. Maybe he will. It's only been half an hour."

"Feels like an eternity…"

She trailed off when the sliding door behind them opened. They had company. Since being out here wasn't helping anyway maybe they should find somewhere else to be…

Juliet glanced over her shoulder, and it wasn't just anyone. Lassiter had found them.

"Oh! Hey…" she said. "How...s Lily?" She stopped short of asking how he was and changed the question. It was such a Shawn thing to do, and the knot in her stomach twisted.

"She's fine," Carlton answered. He pushed his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. "I um...I just came to see if maybe I could get that ride home now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

She remembered she had no car. When she looked around Henry was holding out his keys. He knew she'd come right back anyway, now. She wouldn't be falling asleep with Shawn out there in trouble somewhere.

"Here," he said. "Unless you want me to take him?"

Juliet took the keys. "I've got it, thanks."

"You're good to drive?"

"It's just to the house."

The last bit came out more annoyed than she would have liked. She gave Henry an apologetic glance and followed Lassiter from the courtyard.

He was looking at her as they walked out to find Henry's truck. Studying her. As if he knew something else was wrong.

He always knew.

* * *

O'Hara didn't tell him the whole truth. Carlton gave her the chance.

He asked if she was all right, if there was something else going on, and she told him she was fine. She brushed him off.

They found the truck, and she fought with the stick shift.

"I can—"

She held up a hand. "You have a concussion. You're not driving. I _have_ done this before, ok? It's just been a while."

"All right…" He shut up. He let her figure it out on her own and soon enough they were on the road. "What is it, O'Hara?" he asked then.

She shook her head. "Nothing…"

He gave her a look that he knew she knew meant he wasn't taking her crap, and she made a face and looked away at the road.

"Shawn ran off," she said finally. "He's just...upset. I mean, we're all upset. He just sucks even more at...things, and he ran off with Gus, and he's not answering his phone and I'm worried about him. That's all. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid." It certainly wasn't stupid knowing what Spencer had actually gotten himself into, and it wouldn't have been stupid even if it really _was_ nothing.

O'Hara's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I um...I think I'm gonna go look for him. I need to do something..."

"Yeah."

The rest of the short trip was spent in silence. It wasn't until they pulled up in front of the house that O'Hara banged on the wheel once. "Crap!"

Carlton started. "What? What?" He'd let his eyes close, and that had been a very bad idea. Now he only wanted to sleep.

"Someone's supposed to stay with you!"

He relaxed. "What, that? I'm fine, O'Hara. If I was going to have a problem I think it'd have happened by now."

"Look, I know it seems like forever but it's only been about fourteen hours. Someone needs to be watching you…"

"I'm fine," he repeated more forcefully. "Call me in a few hours if you want; if I don't answer, you have my permission to barge over here. I'll even leave the door unlocked if it'll make you feel better."

"But—"

"O'Hara," Carlton said more gently. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do."

She held his gaze long enough that he thought they were communicating. He thought she might tell him the rest. But she didn't.

He was too tired to decide whether he was angry she was hiding things from him, or if he appreciated the fact she was trying to protect him—trying not to make this day any worse. Maybe it was good he didn't know. He didn't want to be angry with her right now.

"You should stop at the station on the way back and get your car," he said as they climbed from the truck. "Have Brannigan send a couple guys to bring the truck back to Henry."

"She'd use police resources for that?"

He shrugged. "Just tell her I said it was fine."

"Yeah, sure. Maybe…" She followed him to the porch, where he had to remind her that she had his keys. "Right. Sorry."

She dug them out and handed them to him, but neither of them moved after that, standing awkwardly in front of the door.

"I...guess I'll go," O'Hara said finally. "Call me if you need anything, ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

She turned to go back to the truck. Carlton almost let her go. "O'Hara…" He was reaching for her arm when she turned back anyway and pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace. "O'Hara?"

"You're not gonna go through this alone," she said quietly.

He held on tighter. "I know." He swallowed. "Thank you…"

 _For everything._

* * *

McNab was the first to see Juliet when she made it to the station. He waved her past the new girl at the front desk and back into the bullpen.

"Hey, Buzz…"

"We don't have anything new on Shawn," he apologized. "At least, we didn't ten minutes ago. But with Detective Brannigan a lot can change in ten minutes."

"Where is she?"

"Right here." A small woman no taller than Juliet herself hustled up to them. She stuck out a hand. "Detective Betsy Brannigan."

Juliet blinked and took the woman's hand. "Detective Juliet O'Hara."

"Detective O'Hara! Great to meet you," Brannigan said, shaking once and letting go. "I'm so glad you're here. I have a very important question. I need to know the exact time Mr. Guster called you."

"Ok? Why?" Juliet pulled out her phone to pull up the call log, found the correct entry, and held it out. Brannigan glanced at the phone's screen, glanced down at a printout in her hands, and cursed. "What is it?"

"I think we haven't heard from Salamatchia because he already called the chief," Brannigan answered grimly.

"What?" Juliet reached for the printout. "This is the call log on Carlton's cell phone. Why do you even have this?"

"The chief signed off on having all of his phones monitored for suspicious activity right after the escape. And there's a call to his cell from Shawn's phone a good twenty-five minutes after we can confirm the perp had him."

The paper crumpled in Juliet's hand. "Oh my god. But...I just dropped him off at home!"

"The chief?"

"Yes!"

They all stared at each other—Juliet, Brannigan, and McNab—processing, but only for the briefest of seconds.

The three of them bolted for the door all at once.


	10. Chapter 10

Aaaaaand action chapter. Hopefully it makes sense. ;) Did my best to get it up as soon as possible didn't want anybody going crazy for too long, lol. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, ya'll! Couldn't do this without you! :)

Chapter 10

May 2014

By the time they made it back to the house Carlton's car was already gone. Juliet could see that, but she threw her own car into park and jumped out anyway. She was halfway across the yard before Brannigan and McNab were parked and following her in.

"Carlton!" she called.

The door was unlocked, just as he'd promised. Damn him.

"Carlton!"

There was no answer, of course. No movement downstairs. A clean house but for the boxes and baby toys. Juliet bolted upstairs and it was the same there.

If Lassiter hadn't remembered about the montering on his phones before, he remembered now. He knew they'd come back. He was gone.

"Dammit, Carlton!" she gasped.

The master bedroom was the last place she looked, and it was the only place there was any evidence Lassiter had been here at all. The clothes he'd been wearing were on the floor and the closet was open. That was it.

No. Not it.

There was an empty space on the nightstand next to Lily's first baby picture. The missing frame was abandoned on the edge of the bed, by a wrinkled place in the otherwise perfectly spread comforter just large enough for someone to have sat there. The glass was covered in new fingerprints.

Carlton and Marlowe's wedding picture.

"Detective O'Hara!"

Brannigan was calling from downstairs. Juliet blinked, clearing moisture from her eyes. She left everything as it was and hurried back down the stairs.

"What?" she questioned sharply.

Brannigan and McNab were standing over the kitchen table.

"This isn't good, is it?" McNab asked. He looked from Juliet, to the table, and back again.

A briefcase sat in one of the kitchen chairs. The three things left in the middle of the table were Carlton's badge, his cell phone, and his life insurance policy.

* * *

Shawn was roughly prodded awake by the barrel of Salamatchia's gun. He was still in the trunk, but his hands were tied...with shoelaces and duct tape?

The Petrovich place. There'd been all those shoes left behind. They were here.

"Get out of there," Salamatchia demanded.

Shawn groaned. "I would love to, but my head kinda hurts. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" The older man growled at him and started to yank him up forcibly from the floor of the trunk. "Ok, ok!"

He climbed out, unsteady and taking absolutely no solace in the fact that he probably had a concussion to match Lassie's between the two different impacts to the head.

He wondered why the guy had bothered to wake him up now, until he remembered the trap door down into the old hideout. There was no way Salamatchia would have gotten anybody unconscious down there on his own.

Shawn also knew he wouldn't normally have forgotten a detail like that, even for a moment. Now he was relatively sure there had to be some damage.

The left side of his face felt sticky. Why hadn't he noticed that the last time he was awake? Maybe it had only been wet then. Maybe he'd thought it was sweat, but now the blood was drying.

Yeah. Definitely not good.

The trap door was still open from when they'd been here last night with Brannigan and Buzz. They'd found it that way, and they'd left it that way. Salamatchia urged him down through the hole and down the ladder at gunpoint. His hands were bound in front, so he could _do_ it, but that didn't mean it was easy.

"Hurry up."

Shawn made a face at him. "Dude! What I've got to deal with here is _your_ fault, you know. Entirely your fault. And was the duct tape really necessary? Seriously. Pulling hair here. Because I'm a man. And I _have_ arm hair."

"Shut up."

They made it to the bottom of the ladder and Shawn was prodded around the corner, down the dark concrete-walled corridor and around to the basic wooden stairs that led up the loft in the underground space that had once been an office of sorts for Petrovich. Where they'd found the leftovers of Salamatchia's explosive preparation.

Salamatchia ordered him into a chair and found a rope long enough to tie him to it.

"Is this still supposed to be about some kind of justice? Or... _balance_ , or whatever?" Shawn questioned.

"That's all I'm trying to do."

"Then why'd you kill your ex-wife? What'd she ever do to you?"

The older man froze for a moment, not looking at him. He polished off a knot before he pulled away and turned his back. "She stood in the way of justice."

Shawn snorted. "You mean she wouldn't hide you after you escaped from prison and started killing people again?"

Salamatchia spun on him. "I am not killing _people_! I'm bringing balance to past wrongs!"

"Tell that to Carlton Lassiter!" Shawn shouted.

The guy hit him. More of a backhand than anything—nothing really, compared to being knocked out twice. Still didn't feel very good. Shawn heard himself cry out, and he was still trying to blink the stars out of his vision when Salamatchia took the rant back up.

"Lassiter should be dead. He _will_ be dead. My son can't rest until he is, and neither will I, you hear me?"

Shawn coughed and cleared his throat. He was pretty sure his lip had split. "Yeah, well...good luck with that. You think he'll just walk in here and let you shoot him?"

"He's on his way, isn't he?"

"Sure. But he's got a plan."

Salamatchia shook his head. "He's stupid, but he's not that stupid. Any funny business and his daughter is next. He knows that."

"And _you're_ stupid if you think you'll ever get anywhere near Lily Lassiter now. Not to mention: super bad idea, that threat. Probably all _that_ accomplished was pissing him off. When he was _already_ pissed off. I assume. _I_ would be. I didn't really stick around after _his wife died_."

Shawn swallowed. There was that whole air thing again. Where it was hard.

"Her name was Marlowe. She was a _person_ , man, and she never did anything to you _or_ your son. She never did anything to help any drug operations. She never endangered any kids. She did go to prison for a little while that one time, but, you know, she just stole some blood in bag, she was just trying to keep her brother alive."

His vision was getting blurry, and he could blame the bumps on the head if the fuzziness wasn't clearly swimming and and all liquidy. He really needed to stop before that stuff went anywhere other than right there in his eyes, but he was on a roll now. He had to finish.

"She was kinda weird, sure, but she made him happy. She helped us solve cases. She didn't take any crap—from Lassiter or anyone else. She let Lily keep the stuffed dog toy I gave her even though Lassie was sure it had to be infested with me-germs. She was _good people_. And you...you killed her."

Salamatchia was glaring him down. "Are you done?"

Shawn really wanted to be done, but the words kept tumbling out. "You know what? No! I'm not done! What is wrong with you, man? How the hell is destroying another family supposed to make anything right!"

There it was. The anger. Good. The other stuff was going away, and _this_ he could deal with. This he could do.

"Sometimes that's the way it has to be," Salamatchia huffed.

"No! It's really not!"

* * *

They split up the places Salamatchia might be, the places Lassiter might be going, and Brannigan sent McNab with Juliet.

"She needs someone with her authorized to operate in this city. The last thing we need is trouble later over this."

McNab nodded, and didn't hesitate to go around to the passenger side of Juliet's car instead as they hurried from the house. Brannigan opened the trunk of theirs and tossed him his bulletproof vest.

"Detective O'Hara? You good?" she asked.

"I've got mine," Juliet confirmed. Brannigan was already shedding the jacket of her pantsuit to put hers on. Juliet dug hers out of her trunk and donned it over her t-shirt and jeans. By the time she was done Buzz was in the car and ready to go.

"I'll call the station and have them on standby to send reinforcements as soon as one of us has confirmed the location," Brannigan said, before she climbed into her car. "And I'm sending a protection detail to the hospital to keep an eye on the chief's daughter."

"And have everyone looking for Carlton's car!" Juliet called.

Brannigan waved in agreement before she shut her door. "Yeah! And the APB is still out on what Salamatchia was driving; LAPD says Mr. Guster confirmed he hasn't switched vehicles yet. We'll find them."

* * *

From the sideways glance Shawn managed to get at Salamatchia's (probably stolen) watch, it was barely nine thirty when they heard movement down the corridor below, back in the entryway.

 _Way early. Please say that's, like, Brannigan and a whole task force and not Lassie._

Salamatchia was well on alert. The chair he'd tied Shawn to was already facing the top of the stairs and pulled several yards back. He moved behind it, and then there was a tight hand on Shawn's shoulder and the cold metal of a gun barrel against his temple. He went still like any normal human being would have.

 _I may be screwed either way. Fantastic._

"Salamatchia!" The call came from below and still some distance. "Where the hell are you? I know you've had time to get back here!"

 _Dammit, Lassie!_

"Up here!" Salamatchia answered loudly.

After a moment there were footsteps on the stairs, and this time Shawn said what he wanted to say out loud.

"Dammit, Lassie!"

At least the barrel of Lassiter's gun led into view first as he came up, rather than his face. "Shut up, Spencer."

He'd changed, too, all suited up now. If he was going to die he was going to do it dressed like the police chief he was. Strange how that made Shawn feel a little better.

Not that he planned on letting anything happen to Lassie.

They were all there now, Shawn with a gun to his head and Lassiter at the top of the stairs with a gun trained on Salamatchia. The gun was in Lassie's left hand thanks to the cast on his other wrist, but Shawn wasn't stupid enough to think that would affect the chief's aim at all and he didn't think Salamatchia was either.

Lassiter looked Shawn over once and glared up at the perp behind him.

"What happened to not hurting him?"

"He started talking," Salamatchia retorted.

Any other day Lassie probably would have found that funny. Even in the middle of a standoff. Today it fell flat and all he did was glare. Shawn couldn't blame him; he didn't feel like laughing, either.

"How is this—?"

Salamatchia didn't let Lassiter finish. "Drop your weapon and kick it over here, and I'll let this one go."

Lassie shook his head immediately. "I don't think so. I'm not dropping anything until he's out the door."

"I don't think you can tell me—"

"Actually, I _can_ ," Lassiter cut in angrily. "I have what you want. Me. I could turn around and walk out of here and let you kill him if you want to, and you'd lose your chance. You'd never get to my daugher. You'd still be back in prison by the end of the day. So if you want _any_ chance of having what you want, I suggest we do this my way. Personally, I think the way you went about this entire thing was stupid, but that's just me."

"That's what happens when you're _crazy_ ," Shawn offered. The hand on his shoulder pinched tightly and the barrel of the gun pushed in painfully. He made a face, and that's when Lassiter reacted.

"Hey!" Lassie called. "Don't worry about him; he's an idiot. What's it going to be?"

Salamatchia hesitated, but after a moment the hand on Shawn's shoulder was gone and the guy was working at the knots at the back of the chair while still keeping the gun to his head.

Lassiter waited. Shawn took the opportunity to talk some sense into him in a stage whisper Salamatchia could totally hear, but there was no way around that.

"Lassie, this is stupid!"

Shawn glanced over his shoulders, trying to see if there was any chance Salamatchia wasn't paying close enough attention, but no dice. There was nothing Lassiter could do. The guy's eyes were pinned on Lassiter and he was pulling the knots out without looking at them.

"Of course it's stupid."

"No, I mean _go home_!" Shawn insisted. "Or, you know, get me out of here a different way, which would be preferable. But _this_ is stupid."

"Shut up before I shoot you myself," Lassie shot back tiredly.

The rope fell away and Salamatchia hauled Shawn to his feet. His hands were still bound, though. He swayed, really starting to feel the cracks on the head now.

"Shawn?" Lassie. Lassie using his actual name. How bad did he look?

"Yeah?"

"You all right?"

"Never better."

Lassiter dug in a pocket with his free hand and tossed something jingly to Salamatchia. "Give him those and let him go."

Over Shawn's shoulder Salamatchia growled a little and pushed the jingly thing between his bound hands. Lassie's keys. He didn't have time to really look at them; Salamatchia shoved him from behind and he fell forward a few steps.

"My car's outside," Lassie was saying. "There's a pocket knife on the keyring. Get out of here, Spencer."

Shawn got his balance back and looked from the keys, to Lassiter, to Salamatchia, and back to Lassie. "Are you guys crazy? I'm not going anywhere."

"Go!" they yelled at him at once.

He heard Salamatchia's gun click behind him and Shawn scurried forward at least as far as Lassiter's side. "Fine! Geez…"

He paused, suddenly really needing to catch his breath and not sure why. The stairs fell away beside him and he looked sideways at Lassiter.

"Lassie…I'm sorry..."

He said it quietly. There was actually a good chance Salamatchia couldn't hear them now, here by the stairs.

Shawn wanted to say for what. He wanted to say he was sorry about Marlowe. He was sorry for this mess only making it worse. But he thought especially the first thing might be more of a distraction than anything else right now, to remind him, and Lassiter didn't need that. He needed to get out of this.

Lassiter swallowed once, and it was the only new emotion he showed. He didn't look over; he kept his eyes on Salamatchia. "Get going, Spencer." He paused. "O'Hara needs you."

"Yeah, and Lily needs her dad, genius."

"So I don't plan to die today if I can help it. _Move_."

That was better than nothing, and the last thing Shawn wanted to do now was make Salamatchia any angier by lollygagging too long—since it had been made clear he wasn't welcome to stay. So he nodded a little, and he really didn't want to but he took the first step down the stairs.

"Spencer."

"Yeah?" He paused on the top step.

"If anything happens to me and you and O'Hara _screw up_ raising my daughter, I _will_ come back to haunt you."

Shawn blinked. "Okay then."

* * *

"Well?" Salamatchia said, once Spencer was gone.

Carlton glanced to his gun and back up. "What? You think I'm going to make this easy for you? You said come alone; I came alone. That's all you get."

After a moment the other man shrugged. "All right. Maybe a fair fight is better. Before we were interrupted last time I was starting to feel it'd be flat, killing you unarmed."

It was taking every ounce of willpower not to just fire. To wait. To look for the best opportunity to get out of this alive. To keep both of them alive if at all possible, because as much as he hated it O'Hara had been right.

It would be so easy just to fire. Right between his eyes. Carlton was sure of his own aim, his own speed, even in his current state—with his left hand and the concussion. He'd trained himself that well.

He could fire right now and Salamatchia would be dead, but he'd probably get a shot off first. That likelihood was higher now. Carlton wasn't as steady as he'd like. He could compensate for it but he'd telegraph more. It could just as easily end with him dead, too.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he growled, stalling for time.

"You and Petrovich made me this way when you took my son," Salamatchia answered dangerously.

"I didn't do anything to your son, or to you. Life is _choices_ , Mr. Salamatchia. You did this to yourself. I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt last time...to let your grief take the blame. We are so far past that now."

* * *

After several long seconds of lurching back and forth in the corridor in indecision and face planting into a wall once after losing his balance, Shawn finally made up his mind. If he could get to the car he could use the radio.

He pushed off the wall and made for the exit, but he didn't even get as far as the ladder. He rounded the corner and bounced off Brannigan instead.

Shawn bounced back into the wall and Brannigan and rocked back on her heels. Her sidearm came up at him briefly, but lowered again when she realized it was him.

"Brannigan! Oh my god, am I glad to see you!" he whispered.

"Where's the chief?" she demanded, following his lead on the volume.

"Up in the office...loft...thing. He really needs some help back there. At _least_ a third party to make the standoff a Mexican. Something."

She nodded and hurried around him, keeping low. Shawn followed her to the base of the stairs, and they could hear the voices above.

Then Shawn remembered something. A finger went to his eyebrow.

"Wait!" he whispered, urgent. Brannigan looked back at him, at eyebrow up, telling him to go on. "There's another way up there. You don't want to go up this way; Salamatchia'll be looking straight at you."

He remembered the hints of another staircase, on the far side of the loft. He'd gotten a glimpse when Salamatchia brought him up.

Brannigan seemed to agree with his assessment, because she listened. She backed silently away from the staircase and they followed the concrete passage around looking for the second one.

* * *

"You know, it's almost a shame to kill you right now no matter what the circumstances," Salamatchia said. "I should let you suffer a little longer."

A high pitched whine in his ears, the flash of a still form in his memory, and Carlton's next breath breath came with that much more difficulty.

At least he didn't have to answer. The other man just kept talking. Maybe he was stalling, too.

"Your friend let slip what happened in the crash." Salamatchia shrugged a little. "I don't think he let it _slip_ , really; I think he was trying to shame me. He was angry."

Carlton's fingers tightened around his weapon. He was almost surprised when his trigger finger didn't flex with the rest of them.

" _I'm_ angry, you bastard." It wasn't much more than a gasp.

No. No no no. _Don't do that. Don't let him get to you. You do that and he gets the satisfaction. You do that and you're dead._

It had never been this hard before.

 _Why can't I just kill him, O'Hara?_

That was when he saw the movement on the far end of the loft. The top of a blonde head. His first thought, as silly as it was, was maybe the wish had brought her here.

But it was Brannigan who crept silently up the stairs and planted her feet before Salamatchia ever knew she was there.

"SBPD! Drop it, Mr. Salamatchia!" she called. "No sudden movements! Put the gun on the ground!"

He had nowhere to go. He was covered from both sides. He should have done as he was told.

He didn't.

Salamatchia made a move as if to turn, to fire at Brannigan. She fired first and he was down, the wound in a shoulder.

Carlton moved in to cover him. He kicked the dropped gun away, over the edge of the loft, and heard it clatter down the wooden stairs behind him. He only glanced up long enough to see Brannigan crossing the loft, Spencer coming up the stairs behind her, and then the world was tilting sharply.

"Lassie!"

Spencer's voice reached him as he hit the ground. A dull ache in one ankle told him Salamatchia had pulled him down from the ground. Maybe he shouldn't have fallen so easily, but his balance was still off. His head was spinning now. His gun was pulled from his hands before he could reorient.

Carlton lurched for the movement, reaching. He found purchase on cold metal and pulled back. He was working more on feel than anything to keep the barrel pointed away. Just as he was sure he'd have the gun back Salamatchia slammed their arms out together, enough to send the weapon over the edge rather than let him have it.

* * *

"What are you doing! Shoot him again!" Shawn shouted.

"I can't be sure I won't hit the chief!"

Brannigan stopped to aim when Salamatchia dragged Lassiter down, but there was no good shot to be had. She took off across the loft again instead.

The rest of it took maybe ten seconds.

Lassie's gun went over the edge. That should have been the end of it. Lassiter kicked at the guy and yanked free. He was going for his ankle, for the smaller gun he kept there. Shawn was ready to be glad it was over, but Brannigan wasn't there yet and with his uninjured arm Salamatchia was reaching under his jacket, for his waistband.

"Gun!" Shawn shouted. He had a second gun. Shawn hadn't seen it before. He'd been too busy shouting at the guy. Or he'd had concussion brain.

His fault. Either way, it was his fault.

Salamatchia had the gun out, aiming from the ground, Lassiter in the crosshairs. Lassie had been trying to get his balance back enough to draw and he hadn't been fast enough, and Brannigan had no time to pull her own weapon back up before Salamatchia fired.

Brannigan ran straight into Lassiter instead. He was closest. Her momentum carried them onto the stairs.

Salamatchia fired. Brannigan was hit instead. The impact tore her away from the chief and knocked her over the landing, sending her straight to the ground.

Lassiter fell out of view to the right, tumbling down the stairs. Shawn heard him cry out on the way down.

Shawn dashed back for the second set of stairs behind him before Salamatchia could turn over to find him. A bullet splintered the wooden railing over his head as he ducked down.

* * *

Everything hurt. Carlton couldn't see straight. A particularly bright flare of pain tore through his right shoulder, but it wasn't a bullet. He knew what those felt like.

He was upside down on the last few steps of the wooden stairs.

Where was Brannigan? Did the railing at the top of the landing break? He remembered the splintering sound but then he was falling.

Someone was still firing.

Oh god. Spencer. Where was Spencer?

"Lassie! _Lassie_!"

Not dead, then.

The call echoed through the underground hideout, and he thought maybe he heard running footsteps but Carlton couldn't see much.

He could make out the edge of the loft above him. And a figure. Leaning over the edge. Looking for him. He heard Spencer calling from elsewhere so it could only be Salamatchia. Carlton reached again for the gun at his ankle, and the only instance he'd been more glad it was there was his wedding day.

A flash of red and Marlowe's smile. His chest tightened. The figure above him took aim.

This time Carlton fired first.


	11. Chapter 11

I think that's the fastest new chapter ever. I felt bad about the last sort-of cliffhanger, lol. Also this has been the first pretty free weekend in a while. It's been nice. In general headed back into the busy season at work though, just so ya'll know. I'll do my best!

Anyway, thanks so much! I'm glad the last chapter made sense. I really appreciate the comments. This chapter, while resolving a lot, will probably require mostly just tissues. If I wrote it right. Just to warn you. So let me know! :) But I promise things will get better.

Chapter 11

May 2014

More shots echoed above him as Shawn raced down the wooden stairs and back around toward where Brannigan and Lassiter had fallen. He tried to count—tried to figure out how many bullets Salamatchia had left based on the type of gun it was. That he could remember, playing those few seconds back in his mind, and when Salamatchia gave up trying to hit _him_ Shawn was relatively sure there were two rounds left.

"Lassie! _Lassie_!"

No answer.

What he couldn't remember—what he hadn't seen or didn't want to remember—was where Brannigan had taken the hit. He didn't know, and Lassie had gone down the stairs and there were any number of things that could go horribly wrong when falling down stairs and he hadn't heard anything more from either of them.

"Brannigan! Br—"

Shawn rounded the corner and nearly tripped over her. He stopped and his arms pinwheeled, and he could see the stairs stretching away but he couldn't see Lassie. He didn't hear anything. But he didn't see Salamatchia either. No one pointing a gun at him. But the stair landing just above blocked his view of the loft anyway. A blind spot.

And at his feet Brannigan wasn't moving. He didn't really want to look down, because he knew what he'd see. The glimpse when he stopped was enough to tell him, before he'd looked up to check for possible mad gunmen.

"Dammit...Betsy…" Shawn gasped. He bent over his knees, trying to breathe, getting a better look he didn't want.

The SBPD's head detective lay splayed on her side, eyes open. The bullet had caught her in the side of the neck and come out...he couldn't see it. But a puddle of blood was spreading from under her head.

She never had a chance.

The sound of two new shots startled him. Shawn jerked upright again and sprinted for the base of the stairs.

"Lassie!"

Two shots. Both the same sound. From the same gun. Salamatchia had two shots left.

An arm, falling. A body upside down on the last two or three steps of the stairs.

Shawn's stomach dropped, but a thump from above made him look up. A foot hung over the edge of the loft, unmoving. Salamatchia's shoes.

"Lassie?"

He could breath again. It was Lassiter at the base of stairs, but he was moving, pulling himself upright, clinging to one of the steps for leverage to pull his legs down, to position himself sitting on the bottom step. He was holding his right arm close to his body, but he was alive.

"Shh!" Lassie hissed. He leaned back into the concrete wall the stairs were built against so he could push the small gun he held into Shawn's hands when Shawn made it to him, crouched in front of him.

"Take this," Lassiter whispered urgently. "You have to check him."

"He's not moving, Lassie. I'm pretty sure he's—"

"Check! We don't need anymore surprises, and I can't—" He leaned away from the wall, trying to pull himself up farther to illustrate his point. He failed, falling back dizzily and grunting.

"Whoa, okay. Give me a hand, would you?" Shawn set the gun on the step so he could wrestle out the keys he'd shoved into his pocket earlier and get the knife open.

He didn't necessarily trust Lassie to position the knife himself right now—even though he'd apparently landed at least one of those shots a moment ago—but he could use the leverage. He found a safe spot between his hands and under the tape to slip the blade, and Lassiter pulled up with his good hand to get enough of a cut for Shawn to get the stuff off. With the tape gone the shoelaces unraveled, and his hands were sticky, but free.

Maybe he used a little too much force yanking the stuff off his hands and tossing it away, but whatever.

"Okay," he said, taking up the gun. "So just...make sure he's not gonna start shooting people again, right?"

Lassiter nodded once and his eyes closed. He made a face and he was holding his arm.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing, my just shoulder's out. Go!" he shot back quietly.

The foot above still wasn't moving. There wasn't a whole lot of point to this, but...at the same time, Shawn welcomed any chance to stall telling Lassie about Brannigan. Shawn didn't know how he'd take it right now, after...yeah.

Also, Lassie was more than a little right. They didn't need anymore surprises.

Shawn crept up the stairs, leading with the gun as Lassie had done earlier. Probably not as skilled in his form, but that was neither here nor there. He could still hit a target like nobody's business thanks to his dad, but he didn't carry a gun around every day.

The body up in the loft wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. Both shots had landed in the torso. Shawn kicked away the gun resting beside him anyway, mostly to make Lassie happy, and checked for a pulse. There wasn't one.

"Yeah, he's dead," Shawn said, when he made it back to Lassie. He lowered himself down against the wall beside him, on the next step up, and gave Lassie his gun back. Lassiter secured it in his ankle holster and then they were just sitting there, shoulder to shoulder, both still trying to catch their breath.

Shawn wondered if there would ever be enough.

Lassiter was the one to break the silence.

"Brannigan's dead too, isn't she?" he asked softly.

Shawn blinked at him, and the first time he opened his mouth nothing came out, but he wasn't really surprised. Lassie wasn't stupid.

"I'm sorry…" he managed finally. He didn't know what else to say.

Lassiter just nodded and looked away, grimacing. Shawn thought that might be it for now until Lassie scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a breath that sounded more like a moan. He cursed a few times and let his head drop back against the wall.

Shawn sat. He wanted to thank Lassie for showing up, for coming for him, but now didn't seem like the time, not at all, and he didn't know what he was supposed to say about anything else, either. But he was sitting here. He was doing that. And Lassie hadn't growled at him to move or anything, and he probably didn't need to because Brannigan had undoubtedly called for backup before coming in. Jules was coming. She had to be coming.

"Jules should be coming." He said it aloud for Lassiter, who nodded again silently.

So Shawn sat, and he kind of leaned in a little more on Lassie's good shoulder so he knew Shawn was there, because that was all he could think to do. It could have easily been weird but Lassie didn't say anything. He didn't seem to mind.

* * *

Juliet and McNab had scarcely finished checking one previous residence and gotten back in the car when Brannigan radioed. Both the car Salamatchia had been driving and Lassiter's Ford Fusion were on the street outside the old Petrovich place.

She told them she was going in. McNab asked her to wait for backup, but they were nearly twenty minutes out and there wasn't a unit that could get there quicker. Brannigan made it clear she wouldn't have anyone dying in there while she sat around outside waiting for extra guns.

"Betsy, _be careful,_ " McNab pleaded.

Then she was gone.

The dash there was tense and silent, as was the climb down into the underground hideout. The place seemed strangely quiet as they made their way in, weapons drawn.

There was no standoff, no commotion, no movement...just Shawn and Carlton, sitting on the bottom steps of the stairs leading to the loft.

"Jules!" Shawn stood up, a little unsteady. One side of his face was covered in dried blood that had dripped from a nasty gash at his hairline, his lip was split, and his chin and the other cheek showed bruises.

But he was alive. He was okay. A tight knot in her stomach unraveled and Juliet wanted nothing more than to go to him, hold onto him, but her instincts took over.

"Where's Salamatchia?" she asked.

Shawn pointed vaguely up and as he stepped over Carlton's legs to the concrete floor. "Up there...he's dead."

"Any other hostiles?"

"Nah...we're clear in here."

Juliet and McNab lowered their weapons, but McNab still looked worried. "Where's Detective Brannigan?" he asked.

Brannigan. Oh god. The look on Shawn's face when McNab asked gave Juliet the answer before he said anything. She clamped a hand tight over her mouth, and on the stairs Carlton was making that face he made when he didn't know what other face to make. When nothing made sense and there was nothing he could do about it.

Shawn swallowed. "Buzz...I'm...I am so sorry, man…"

McNab deflated. "What? But...no…"

Juliet sobbed once, quiet and dry. By the time Shawn looked at her she'd dropped her hand already and composed herself.

"Buzz, why don't you go up to the car with Shawn and make sure dispatch knows what we need here, okay?" she said gently. Wherever Brannigan was, whatever happened to her, he didn't need to see it. Not now. Not like this. They could all pay their respects later.

He looked like he might protest, but he didn't. After a moment McNab nodded and Shawn took his arm and led him back for the entrance and the ladder. When he passed Shawn caught Juliet's hand, squeezed it, and looked in her eyes long enough for her to know he'd be all right.

Not right now. None of them were okay right now. But he was here, and he would be.

"Oh! Shawn!" She remembered something before they'd gotten too far. She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out. Shawn came back for it. "Your dad. _Please_ call your dad."

"Thanks."

When they were gone Juliet crossed to the stairs, stepped over Carlton's legs and took Shawn's place beside him against the wall, on the next step.

"How are you doing?" she asked after a minute or two.

He let out a breath, and looked like he was actually thinking about it. "I don't think I could stand up right now if I wanted to."

"What?"

He glanced up the stairs. "Falling down a relatively steep flight of stairs...not such a great idea when one already has a concussion."

"That's what happened to your arm?"

Carlton shrugged, grimaced. "It's fine. Just out of socket. I think."

"We'll have paramedics here soon…"

"Yeah."

There was silence, and then he said something. "It was him or me."

Juliet looked at him quickly. "I didn't say anything," she said, surprised.

"But you were thinking—"

"No. I _wasn't_." She shifted on the step, turned into him to be sure he was looking at her. "You were upset earlier. I know that. We worked side by side for eight years, Carlton. You're my _friend_. Do you seriously think I don't know you well enough to believe no matter how big you talk, when it comes down to the line you'd never kill anyone if it wasn't the only way?"

Carlton looked at her. His eyes misted, and he looked away. "Sorry."

Juliet started to put an arm around his shoulders, then remembered that would hurt and pulled it awkwardly back. There wasn't even a hand available; he was holding his injured arm against him to minimize the pain until it could be put back in place. She ended up threading her hand through his other arm, just so she had something to hold onto. Because right now she felt like she needed it, and maybe he did, too. He didn't complain.

"You didn't tell me he had Shawn," he said.

"And you didn't tell me he called you," she shot back. Anyone else would have gotten defensive—thought she was starting an argument. But they'd known each other long enough he knew that wasn't the case. She was offering a truce. They'd both been wrong, and neither of them had any high ground. Not that such things should really matter right now.

Carlton looked at her again, snorted a breath through his nose and relaxed, and if it were any other day he might have smiled a little. He didn't now, but Juliet got the message. His assent. This would be the end of it.

"Lily has eyes on her at the hospital," Juliet offered.

He sighed. "Thank you."

The way his voice went wobbly when he said it reminded her everything else was far from over.

* * *

Henry yelled at him when he called, because apparently no one had updated him in the last hour or so. Shawn knew that was just his twisted personal way of communicating love and concern.

"This whole detail shows up to keep an eye on Lily, and no one would _tell_ me anything—"

"Dad, I was kind of tied to a chair…"

Shawn sat with McNab until everybody else started to show up—two black and whites, Woody, two ambulances, and Detective Dobson and his partner because neither Buzz nor Lassie were in any state to be taking over the scene, and Jules didn't work here anymore.

Dobson kind of looked at Shawn funny when he spotted him. Maybe that had something to do with the video he'd sent.

Gus texted Jules that the LAPD had gotten the update that everything was safe and resolved in Santa Barbara, so they were sending him home. He and Jules's car were on the way back. Shawn texted back he should meet them at the station because he figured they'd all be there by then, what with needing to get statements in and all.

Then because Shawn had mentioned in the text that it was him, Gus called Jules's phone and wailed for a few minutes because Shawn was okay.

"Dude. Pull yourself together and drive. I'll still be in one piece when you get here."

Shawn let one of the paramedics clean up his face and stitch the gash. They told him he'd be fine, mild concussion, make sure somebody woke him up every few hours for a day or two, bla bla bla...McNab just stood there with him and looked lost. Both of them tried not pay attention when Woody and the other paramedics brought up the body bags.

When Jules and Lassie came back up Lassiter's arm was fixed and in a sling again, and Jules had taken her vest off. She guided Lassie to the passenger seat of her car and dumped the vest in her trunk, and then she was looking around and Shawn knew who she wanted.

Shawn hopped off the back of the ambulance where the guy who'd patched up his face had put him. He patted McNab on the shoulder, motioning to Jules.

"I'm gonna…"

"Okay," McNab said.

"Look, man, you gonna _be_ okay?"

"Yeah, I guess." He winced. "I guess I'll take Detective Brannigan's car back to the station and see if I can help with anything."

"Okay...I'll see you there."

Shawn bounded over to Jules's duty car and she had her arms out before he got there.

"I should be so angry with you right now," she said into his shoulder.

"And I would so deserve it."

Jules made a strange sound. "We'll have to get your dad in here."

"I called him, Jules. He knows I'm okay; he's fine."

"No, I mean...something he said after you left the hospital...guilt police…"

Shawn shook his head against her neck in confusion and held on a little tighter. "Okay, we'll have to get into that later. I'm not really...processing, right now."

"That makes two of us," she admitted. "God, I'm just glad you're okay. That's about as far as I've gotten."

"I'm okay with that."

Shawn pulled back just enough to kiss her. Their foreheads rested together for a moment, until Jules pulled back a little more and lowered herself back onto her heels.

"You're going to the station, right?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You still have Carlton's keys?"

"Uhm…" He patted his pockets. "Yeah."

"Okay. Could you use his car and bring it back to the house later, when you're done there? I'm taking him home now. Dobson's all right with it; we can give our statements tomorrow. Right now he really just...I'm getting him out of here."

Shawn nodded, and tried to give her phone back.

"Keep it. I'll call you from the house phone when you're clear to come over there. Um…" She trailed off and made a face. "Don't come until then?"

Shawn blinked a couple of times, then nodded again. "Um, yeah. Okay. You got it."

Before she left he pulled her close one more time.

* * *

Carlton didn't say anything else until they were inside the house. He stared out the window on the way there, and Juliet could only imagine where he was.

She followed him inside and up the stairs. He started talking about the guest room and how he didn't know when the bedding in there had been washed last—Henry said right before he left, but who knew for sure?

"That box right outside the door should be sheets and blankets though. The hall closet isn't very big so I think Marlowe wants to store some of them in that dresser in...there…"

Carlton trailed off when he realized what he'd said. His face crumpled and there was a heavy breath.

Juliet reached for his hand. "Hey. If you could think of one thing in the world that would make you feel better right now, what would it be?"

He almost smiled. In the past that exact question had led to such humorous answers as sloppy joes (when she asked him after the haunted-condo incident) and double fudge sundaes (when he asked her once). She didn't expect anything funny now, but that was fine. Some of the tension went out of his shoulders and he leaned back into the wall there in the upstairs hallway. He squeezed her hand, and his eyes went distant, like he was thinking about it.

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do now?" he asked quietly.

"Now, you're supposed to sleep."

Carlton shook his head. "No...I mean...I mean…"

This time it wasn't a breath. It was a sob.

That was what she'd thought.

"Carlton…"

"What the hell am I supposed to do now, O'Hara?" he cried. "I don't know. I don't—"

He cut off when Juliet wrapped her arms around him, stopped trying to talk. Carlton sobbed into her shoulder, and since that morning on the clock tower this was one favor she'd always hoped she would never have reason to return.

* * *

Everyone knew it when Gus made it to the station. Shawn was in the middle of the bullpen milling around, waiting for Jules to call, keeping an eye on McNab because he'd already given his statement and had nothing else to do.

"Shawn!"

Gus charged in and made a beeline for him.

"Hey! Buddy…"

Like with Jules, he thought he'd probably get a good tongue lashing. But he didn't. Gus latched on, and didn't let go for a really, really, embarrassingly long time. Seriously, people were starting to stare.

"Um, Gus?"

"Shut up, Shawn. People died today. People we knew. And you could easily have been one of them. I'm entitled to this."

Shawn clapped him on the back and sighed, and held on, and figured he was right.

"Okay."

* * *

Juliet didn't protest when Carlton wandered back down the stairs and chose the couch to collapse on, rather than the bed he would have had to face alone. She pulled off his shoes, and he was asleep almost before she tracked down a blanket to pull over him and a pillow to stuff under his head.

She crept into the kitchen to the phone, called Shawn to let him know she'd be up in the guest room, and climbed back up the stairs. They felt like a mountain.

She wanted to take a shower, but she didn't think she'd have the energy to stand up that much longer. She remembered the bag with the few clothes she'd brought was down in the car, but she didn't want to go back down for that, either. She set a few alarms on the clock by the full-sized bed in the guest room, stripped down to her t-shirt and underwear, and crawled under the covers.

* * *

Gus was reluctant to part with him when Jules called. Shawn said he was sure they could find a place for him to crash, too, that his bed was still in Lily's room and there had to be sheets somewhere. Gus thought about it seriously, but he declined and said he didn't want to intrude. He'd be at his place. The mattress was still there on the floor and he could dig some sheets back out.

"Dude, it's _my_ bed at the house. You've slept in it five million times anyway."

"But it's _Lassiter's_ house now, and he's got enough going on as it is. Besides, tomorrow I've got to get up and figure out how to get back to San Francisco before my first interview Tuesday morning, because I _know_ you and Juliet aren't going to want to go back just yet. I might have to take a bus or something. I'll probably spend half this afternoon comparing prices."

"Okay, Gus, but get some sleep, okay?"

Gus nodded wearily. "I hear that." He hesitated before he headed back out to Jules's little green car. "Shawn?"

"What?"

"Look...if I don't see him, just, if there's a good time, tell Lassie…"

"Yeah. I got you, man."

The house Shawn grew up in was still and quiet when he arrived. Jules's duty car was on the street, and he pulled Lassiter's Ford Fusion into the driveway where his dad's truck would have been just weeks ago.

It was even weirder going inside. The place had been full of boxes the last time he saw it, too, but these were different boxes. His dad's furniture was gone and Lassie and Marlowe's stuff had replaced it. Shawn had thought maybe their unique combination of modern and classy furniture would clash with the manly-ish 70s and 80s interior of the house, but strangely enough it kind of worked. It'd probably work better after some repainting, but whatever.

Then Shawn wondered why he was worrying about that stuff, and figured it was just because it was easier to think about than other things.

Lassie was passed out on the couch. Shawn felt a little weird stopping at the kitchen doorway to watch him for a minute, but no one else was going to know. He just needed to see Lassie was okay. "Okay" being a seriously relative term right now, but anyway...

Even across the dim living room Shawn could make out the dry streaks on Lassiter's face and the almost imperceptible hitches in his breathing, even while he slept. Maybe no one else would have seen those things, but Shawn did. Because he was him. It was one of those times he wished he wasn't.

So he knew exactly why Jules had asked him to wait.

At least Lassie was really sleeping now.

Shawn trudged up the stairs and found the oversized closet that passed as a guest room. There was barely enough space inside for the full-sized bed and a small wooden dresser. The flowery bedspread was a vestige of the years before his mother left.

Jules was bundled under the covers. Shawn shrugged out of his shoes and jeans and tried not to wake her as he climbed in, but she woke up and turned over into his arms anyway.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey."

Shawn could feel his eyelids drooping already, and everything was fine for a while. He was alive and Salamatchia was taken care off and Jules was here, and she was warm, and that should have been enough.

So why was he shaking? Why was he cold?

"Shawn?" Jules asked.

He didn't know why his throat tightened suddenly, or why he turned over so she couldn't see his face. Jules pressed herself into his back, wrapped herself around him, and he knew what this was. He wasn't dumb. It had happened before.

"Shawn, it's okay," Jules whispered. "It's over…"

Shawn couldn't breathe. There was a thought that wouldn't quite take shape, and he knew it was the reason for this—not _the_ reason, there'd been so much, but it was the instigator.

"Shawn?"

"It could have been you," he gasped. The thought took on words and pushed itself between his lips, and dry sobs followed it. "It could have been you, Jules. If you and Buzz had gotten there first. It could have been you. You could be dead right now, and I'd be...and I mean I know that sounds really awful right now, but—"

He didn't have any air to form any more words, and Jules tugged on his shoulder until he turned back over.

"Shawn, Shawn, it's okay. You're not awful."

"No?"

"You're just human." She kissed him gently—his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. "It's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Come here."

Jules pulled him into her chest and he cried for a little while, and that was okay. He was pretty sure she was crying, too.

"Jules, what are we gonna do? Lassie…"

"We'll be here."

Shawn sniffed and cleared his throat loudly. "Yeah," he agreed. "Whatever it takes, right?"

It seemed to be their mantra about everything lately, but it worked.

"Whatever it takes."


	12. Chapter 12

Long weekend! Woo! So here's this, and I'm going to go take a break and eat and watch a couple of episodes of The West Wing (because Dule Hill and I already watched Judging Amy for TimO) before I get started on the second chapter of the new Psych fic I started a couple days ago. My second ever. Because all the Shules here in this one and all the good Lassiet friendshipness and my brain wanted to try real Lassiet, so there it is, if anyone who hasn't read yet is curious. It's also gonna have a lot of sad though, to warn you. Might be more sad than this depending on how you look at it, but it starts out funny I think. *shrug*

So anyway, back to some funny here in this chapter! Mostly because Shawn is Shawn and cannot be overly serious for long before he must try to fix it somehow. I hope ya'll like it; can't wait to hear from you! Thanks so much!

Chapter 12

May 2014

The alarm dragged Juliet from her sleep, but something was wrong about it. She couldn't put a finger on why. She rolled over and Shawn was snoring beside her and everything should have been fine. It was the usual morning alarm on her phone, but…

She opened her eyes, took in the visual assault of flowers covering the bedspread they were both bundled under, and it all came back.

She hadn't had her phone when she set the alarms so she could wake up Carlton and Shawn to check on them. She'd set those alarms on the clock radio by the bed.

"Oh my god!" she gasped. Juliet launched herself out of the bed, climbing over Shawn. She found his jeans on the floor and her phone in the pocket. It was her normal Monday morning alarm going off. For work. They'd slept through the rest of Sunday afternoon and all night. What happened to the alarms on the clock radio?

"Shawn! Shawn, wake up!"

Juliet was shaking him, but he was already groaning from when she'd climbed over him.

" _What_?' he mumbled.

"You're awake? You're okay?"

He scrubbed at his eyes and squinted up at her through the tendrils of morning sun making their way through the thick curtains. "What? Yeah. Why? Oh...concussion. Yeah, I'm fine, Jules. And look, I _love_ you, but knees in the stomach are not fun."

She wasn't listening. As soon as he really started talking she went for the door. "Sorry," she tossed back. Then she was in the hallway and shouting. "Carlton!"

She thought maybe Shawn tried to call something after her, but it didn't register.

"Carlton!"

Juliet pounded down the stairs, and there was a light on down there, and had she left a light on? If they'd all been asleep who had turned on a light?

"I'm down here, O'Hara!"

She didn't register Carlton's voice until she'd already launched herself from the base of the stairs and into the kitchen, and he was standing there at the stove staring at her.

"O'Hara?" He almost choked on a sip of coffee, and that was when she remembered she had no pants on.

"Turn around!"

He was already doing so anyway.

Cursing at herself, Juliet ducked into the living room and snatched up the blanket from the couch to wrap around her waist. She padded back into the kitchen with it dragging around her feet, red-faced and sheepish.

"Okay," she huffed.

"What the hell, O'Hara?" Carlton was wiping coffee from the counter, and he looked back at her with both eyebrows up.

"Someone was supposed to wake you up! None of the alarms I set on the clock by the bed went off."

"Of course not; the alarm function is broken."

"It's—? How did you know that?" It wasn't his clock. Henry had left it here.

Carlton wiped the rim of his coffee mug and took another sip. "Spencer told me when I woke him up last night."

She blinked. "You—?"

"I woke up about nine or so. I hadn't heard from you and I figured you'd told Spencer to come here. I went up to check, and we thought we should let you sleep. You'd been awake longer than any of us."

Juliet groaned in frustration and covered her face for a moment. "He could have _told_ me it didn't work when he got here…"

Carlton sighed a little. "We were all distracted yesterday, O'Hara." Something popped behind him and he turned back to the stove to flip over several strips of bacon in a pan. There were already eggs, toast, and a stack of plates and silverware on the table.

"I woke up and had a _panic attack_ , Carlton," Juliet said. She tried to take deep breaths. "Something could have happened to either of you."

"But it didn't. We're fine. Spencer's still fine, right?"

Footsteps on the stairs behind her answered that question. "I'm fine!" Shawn said. He'd pulled his jeans back on and he all but fell off the last step while still rubbing at his eyes. "I'm here," he yawned. "Oh! Food. Nice, Lassie."

Juliet glared at him as he passed her and went for the table. "Why didn't you tell me Carlton woke you up last night?"

"I tried, sweetheart; you're too fast."

Shawn pulled out two chairs and offered one to her, trying to placate her. What she really wanted to do was go back upstairs and find her _pants_ , but she was suddenly too drained to do it. And the food smelled good, and when was the last time she'd eaten? She had the blanket anyway, and sitting down was a good way to hide it.

She sat. Shawn sat beside her and dug into the food, but she waited.

"Why are you dressed?" she questioned Carlton.

He went hunting in the cabinet for another plate to put the bacon on. When there were no more he reached down into a cardboard box that sat by the counter. "We have to go to the station today to give our statements," he said, glancing at her.

"We don't have to be in work clothes for that," she reminded him, eyeing his fresh suit suspiciously.

He pulled a plate from the box and rinsed it in the sink. He wouldn't look at her now. "I do if I'm staying to work."

Juliet's mouth opened, and she exchanged a concerned glance with Shawn. Shawn stopped eating. "You are _not_ staying to work," she said finally.

Carlton dried the plate with a dish towel and began picking the bacon from the pan with a pair of metal tongs. "Why not? What would I do here? Lily's in the hospital."

She grimaced. "There are other things you need to—"

"I can't do any of that until I know when Lily will be released. There's not going to be a funeral until she's home, and when I called the hospital this morning they couldn't give me a firm answer."

He put the tongs down on the counter, maybe with a little too much force, and came to the table with the plate of bacon. He sat down across from them and he still wouldn't meet anyone's eyes.

"That doesn't mean you have to be at work," Juliet said gently. "You could go to the hospital and be with her."

Carlton let out a breath and tugged a plate from the short stack on the table. "I would, but I don't have a head detective to hold down the fort. I'm stopping there before I get to the station, and I'll probably spend lunch there too. There's probably paperwork for miles. I know there is at work..."

"How are you getting there?" Shawn asked. "Shouldn't you like, still not drive?" He looked at Jules. "Should I drive? I drove some yesterday."

Juliet patted his knee beside her absently. "Just don't overdo it, Shawn."

"McNab's picking me up," Carlton shrugged.

" _Buzz_?" She and Shawn said it together. Juliet was the one to go on to say, "But he shouldn't be at work today, either!"

"He called _me_ , O'Hara. I was just going to call a cab, or maybe Dobson, but I'm not going to deny a man who wants to work."

"He doesn't have a partner."

Carlton winced. "I'm not going to let him out in the field. I'll keep him at the station with me; there's more than enough to do."

"Karan would kick you both to curb the second you showed up…"

He just gave her a look, and Juliet sighed because she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere. She took the last clean plate from the middle of the table and scooped eggs onto it.

Shawn jumped up from the table. "Hey! You have any jelly? There is absolutely no point to toast without jelly."

Carlton glanced over the table like he expected to see it. There was butter, but no jelly. "Yeah...in the door."

"Thanks, man."

Juliet leaned over the table a little as Shawn crossed to the refrigerator. "I would have made breakfast, you know. I just didn't know you planned to be up this early."

It wasn't even seven yet.

"It was something to do," Carlton said. "Been up again since four thirty…"

If he'd had a free hand she would have reached for it, but he didn't. His arm was still in the sling. "How's your shoulder?" she asked.

"Not bad, just sore," he said, glancing at the sling. "Mostly keeps me from trying to use this hand too much. Not that I'll be able to avoid it anyway. My job _revolves_ around paperwork."

"Hey, Lassie?" Shawn called. His head was in the refrigerator.

"What?" Carlton asked over his shoulder.

"Jelly's not in the door. I don't see...nevermind, here it is. Behind the peanut butter? Who puts peanut butter in the refrigerator?"

Carlton's face clouded. He turned back to his eggs, stabbed at them hard and didn't answer.

The result, of course, was now they all knew exactly who had put the peanut butter in the refrigerator.

Shawn made a face as he closed the refrigerator and came back to the table. His mouth opened as he sat back down, probably to apologize, but Juliet held up a hand to keep him from saying anything.

 _Don't make it worse._

She changed the subject. It wasn't the easiest one, but it was the first thing she could think of and it was, at least, a change.

"Have you called your family yet?" she asked. "Has anyone?"

Carlton shook his head and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "I don't know when anything is yet; there's no point in bothering them until I do."

" _Bothering_ them? Carlton…"

"Well...Lulu is in LA trying to get her film career off the ground since she finished grad school, and my mother and Althea...are them," he said, trying to defend himself.

"Ah," Shawn piped up. "The _they're them_ defense. I know it well. I once used it often in conjunction with my father."

"Which has since been remedied," Juliet insisted.

"Yes. If Jules says so." She gave him a look. "Yes. Yes, it has."

Carlton just stared at them for a moment with that why-the-hell-am-I-friends-with-these-people face, and the awkward silence of a failed diversion fell over the table.

The silence didn't last long. There was a honk from out front and Carlton stood up.

"McNab's here," he said. He brought his plate to the sink and picked up his briefcase from the other chair on the way out.

Juliet got up, pulling the blanket with her, and followed him through the living room. "Carlton…"

He turned short of the doorway. "What?"

She gave him a pleading look, and he sighed a little and held out his good arm to let her hug him briefly—probably more because he knew it would make _her_ feel better than anything, to be able to do it. She could only use one arm herself holding the blanket, so it turned out even.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, when she let go.

"No, you're not, and that's okay. I just really don't think you should be going to work, but if you think this is what you need to do right now…"

He didn't really answer. Something in his eyes asked her to give him this, and she couldn't protest anymore.

Outside, McNab honked again.

"Okay," Juliet said. "I'll be there later."

Carlton nodded in thanks. He started to reach for the door and then paused again. He looked back at her and almost smiled. "I'm sorry we scared you," he told her sincerely. "If I'd known you'd react like that I'd have woken you up."

"I know," she said, waving it off. "It's fine. Go on."

Back in the kitchen Shawn was barely picking at his food—which, of course, meant something was wrong.

"Great," he said. "A day I really needed my foot to stay _out_ of my mouth…"

Juliet kissed his forehead as she sat back down. "Shawn, I don't think he'd appreciate us walking on eggshells, either. Don't worry about it. Those things are going to happen." She picked up a piece of toast. "Now hand over the jelly."

* * *

Shawn killed time while Juliet was in the shower, aimlessly flipping through channels on Lassiter's television. He would rather have been in the shower _with_ Jules—distractions were always good, but today it would have been even more welcome. But she wouldn't have it.

"We're both actually pretty disgusting, Shawn. I'm taking a shower by _myself_. Then you're taking a shower, and we're putting the sheets from last night in the washing machine," she'd said.

"And then what?"

"I have to go to the station to give my statement. You can stay here if you want."

"I do not want to stay here alone; that's just weird now."

But he was relatively alone right now and...he was right. It was weird.

Gus saved him when he pulled up. The front door was unlocked and Shawn called to him to come in.

"Where is everybody?" Gus asked.

"Lassie went to the station, because he's Lassie. Jules is in the shower. _I_ am sitting here. Rejected. And alone. For the duration of said shower."

Gus rolled his eyes and dropped onto the other end of the couch.

"Why are _you_ up so early, Gus?"

"Why are _you_?"

" _We_ were all awakened by a classic Juliet O'Hara panic attack that, admittedly, Lassie and I probably could have prevented. But our intentions were good." Gus gave him a strange look, and Shawn ran through the real story.

Gus snorted. "You're lucky you two _are_ fine. Anyway, I've got a bus ticket back to San Francisco after lunch. I came to bring Juliet's car back to her. You need to get your bag out of the trunk." He paused. "Do we know when...anything is?"

Shawn made a face and shifted uncomfortably. "No."

"Okay...I'll just get back as soon as I can after the second interview Thursday morning. Let me know if anything changes?"

"Yeah…"

He trailed off at footsteps on the stairs, and Jules's voice.

"Thank god; I feel human agai—oh my god!" She came around the corner in a towel, cut off, and jumped back into the stairwell. Gus shot up and spun away, and Shawn's eyebrows went up.

He couldn't help laughing once as he climbed off the couch to follow Jules around the corner. "Gus is here," he said needlessly.

"Yeah, I gathered that," Jules hissed quietly, clutching the towel to her chest. "Second time today, really?"

"I'm sorry, but you're faster than me, sweetheart, which makes sense. You have all the police training, and the muscles, and the badass-ness."

"Get faster," she deadpanned.

"Sorry."

"I need my clothes out of the car; they're in the back seat."

Shawn took her bare shoulders and kissed her. "I'm on it."

* * *

It took some convincing to get Shawn and Gus to take Juliet's personal car to the station rather than riding with her.

"Why do we need to do _that_?" Shawn questioned. He'd trailed her into the bathroom while she tried to do something with her hair.

"Because with any luck he'll let me stick around for a while. Maybe I can help. You'll need a car."

"So if you stay _I'll_ stay. No problem there."

"Shawn, you'll have to bring Gus to the bus station later."

"So we _all_ go in your personal car so I can drive it, and I'll bring him and come back. What's wrong with that?"

Juliet had to reach for his face and make him look at her. " _Shawn_. I'm okay. We're okay."

After what he'd said when he came in yesterday, she could understand why he didn't want to be apart from her. Even if he'd never said it she would have understood.

But if she let him act like that now she didn't know how long it would go on.

"I just—" he began.

"I know. I know, okay? We just gotta...hold it together here, all right?" she said.

He tried to smile. "This is the part where you remind me it's not all about me."

"Something like that."

She turned back to the mirror for a moment, and decided her hair wasn't going to get any better.

"So that's why _you're_ all dressed?" Shawn asked.

Juliet smoothed the front of her blazer in the mirror, but it wasn't perfect. She'd thrown _one_ suit in her bag, just in case, and now it was wrinkled. She'd managed to track down Carlton's iron, but apparently one leg of the ironing board had been bent in the move and they hadn't picked up a new one yet. A towel on top of the washing machine hadn't been as effective as she'd hoped.

"Yeah," she said.

"I guess if there's not a case to get in on I could go see Lily for a while…"

Juliet caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. "That would be good."

"This is gonna be a long week, isn't?"

* * *

They shouldn't have been surprised by what they found at the SBPD. They expected the bullpen to be quieter than usual, and it would have been.

Except for its chief standing outside his office door when they arrived, in the middle of wrapping up a rant.

"—so I need any report that would _usually_ be on my desk on a Monday morning _on_ my desk in the next _half an hour!_ Which is still late! And last time I checked this floor was comprised of _tiles_ , people! Not eggshells!"

Juliet stopped with Shawn and Gus at the corner by the front desk. Carlton hadn't seen them yet.

" _Ok_ ," Shawn said. "So you were right about the eggshells…"

"Maybe you should have have tied him up or something," Gus suggested. Juliet and Shawn gave him a sideways look. "What?"

"That's my cue," Juliet sighed. "You guys stay out here for now, okay?"

To be honest though, she was suddenly a little less worried about Carlton than she'd been earlier that morning. Despite the fact that he'd just finished yelling at people, something about being here made him seem more at ease than he'd been at the house. More steady.

Maybe it was because here he had a purpose. That office was where he belonged.

He'd have to take time off at some point, some time very soon, but maybe he was right: maybe that time wasn't now.

Carlton was conferring with McNab in the office doorway as Juliet made her way across the bullpen; he turned and saw her himself as the junior detective moved off.

"Hi, Juliet," McNab waved.

"Hey, Buzz." She caught him before he could get away. He was so tall it was hard to hug him, but she gave it a shot anyway. He patted her shoulder once and smiled awkwardly. She didn't say _I'm sorry_ , but he knew what she meant.

"Thanks…" he said.

"You're distracting my detectives, O'Hara," Carlton interjected. But she knew when he wasn't serious, and he wasn't now.

"I'm distracting _one_ detective who shouldn't even be here," Juliet protested. "Shut up."

He did, until McNab had gone back to his desk.

"Can I talk to you?" Juliet asked.

Carlton's hands were already on his hips, and he gave the bullpen one more good once-over before looking at her. "If you're not trying to make me leave."

"I'm not."

He nodded at that and showed her in, closing the doors behind them.

"How's Buzz doing?" she asked.

Carlton strode behind his desk and sat down. "All right. He's been giving me a hand. We've banned together, I suppose; everyone else here seems intent on convincing us to go home."

Juliet took a seat across from him and couldn't help but smile at the idea of Carlton Lassiter and Buzz McNab actually understanding each other about anything, even if it was this. She wished it _wasn't_ this. "Good."

"For us or for them?"

"Both, I guess."

He raised one eyebrow at her, leaned back in his chair and waited for her to get down to business. Juliet tugged her own chair closer and leaned over the front of the desk.

"Look, Carlton, if you're going to be here anyway at least let me help."

"I would love to, O'Hara," he admitted. "But you're not ours anymore and you haven't been officially loaned to us, either."

Juliet shrugged. "So hire me as a consultant. You don't have to actually _pay_ me; just put something on paper so everything's above board."

He squinted at her suspiciously. "Doesn't Karan need you?"

"They'll manage. Really, Carlton, did you think I was just going to go home?"

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out at first, and he looked away for a moment. "I don't know what I thought..."

Juliet took a deep breath.

"Carlton...I'm not leaving you _now_. I called Karan this morning and cleared taking at least the week; you're stuck with me for a while, whether you let me help or not. Gus has to take a bus back for a couple of interviews in San Francisco this week, but Shawn's staying too."

She'd have to wash this suit at least every other day, but she wasn't going anywhere just yet. At least she'd had the presence of mind to throw in one that didn't require dry cleaning.

Carlton was still quiet.

"And you're sure you won't reconsider going home?"

She had to ask once, just to be sure.

"To what, an empty house?" he answered. It came out so quiet she almost didn't catch it.

"We're there," she answered gently. Then she had a thought. "I mean, unless you don't want us to be. We can stay with Henry, or—"

"No, that's not it, O'Hara," Carlton said quickly. He scrubbed a hand over his face once. "You're staying. I was...never mind."

Juliet nodded and studied her fingers, lacing them together on the desk. "So do I have a job for the week, or what?"

He looked at her appraisingly, two or three fingers tapping the desktop, maybe trying one last time to sort out if she was serious. She was, and he finally seemed to realize it.

"All right," he sighed. "All right, fine. Where's the damn paperwork for that? McNab!"

He raised his voice on the last bit, and Juliet smiled.

"But only you," Carlton said quickly.

"Fine."

"I'm serious. Spencer can work with you on whatever the hell he wants—haven't been able to stop him in the past, and I'm under no illusions I'll be able to now—but I'm not hiring him."

"Fine," Juliet giggled.

"McNab!"

The office door swung open. "Yes, Chief?

"Paperwork for a consultant. Now."

"On it." The door swung closed again.

Juliet had another thought then, as she turned back to the desk. "What about Brannigan?"

Carlton nodded after the junior detective who'd just ducked out. "McNab asked to take point on that one. He's telling me probably Thursday."

"She didn't have any family to take over...?"

"Unfortunately, no," he sighed. "But we'll do it right."

"Yeah…"

They were silent after that. Carlton's fingers were still tapping on the desk, and the rhythm grew harder and faster until he abruptly pushed up from the desk in a short, angry motion, cursed and started pacing.

"Carlton?"

Deja vu now.

He cursed again and motioned out at the bullpen-at her old desk, where Shawn once told her Brannigan had been. "Of course, it had to be the _one_ person who could ever have made it even a _little bit_ all right I don't have you here. She _did_. It was _working_ , and now—"

"You have me this week…"

"And what about after that, O'Hara?"

Juliet got up and went to take his arm and pull him to the table in the corner of the office. "After that, you'll figure it out. I have faith in you. I've heard nothing but good things about the way you've been running this place so far."

He snorted. "Even from Spencer?"

"Even from Shawn, believe it or not."

Carlton relaxed enough to sit down. Juliet was going to take the next chair, but she was distracted by Shawn and Gus motioning wildly at her through the blinds.

 _What?_ she mouthed. She'd couldn't make out what they were trying to tell her. Carlton saw the confusion on her face and looked over his shoulder. Shawn and Gus straightened up immediately when they saw him turning, but of course he caught them anyway.

"Oh for the love of—what now?"

"I have no clue," she admitted.

He sighed and straightened his jacket as he got back to his feet and stalked out of the office. "What do you want, Spencer?"

He stopped just outside the doors, and Juliet nearly ran into his back. She dodged around him, and she grinned. It was the young woman standing with Shawn and Gus now that he was staring at. Gus was smiling the way he did when he knew he'd done something right, and Shawn was bouncing on his toes.

"Lulu?" Carlton said.

Lauren Lassiter broke from her impromptu escorts and hurried across the bullpen to hug her brother. Juliet gave them a few more feet of space, and from the look on her former partner's face any protests he'd made this morning at least about the presence of his sister had been long forgotten.

But they were in the middle of the bullpen, and despite the look on his face and her arms around his neck he only returned the embrace briefly before easing her off of him to look at her.

"What are you doing here?" Carlton asked in wonder.

"Gus called me last night," Lauren told him.

This was news to Juliet.

" _Guster_?"

"Yeah."

"I was going to call you…"

"Much later, I'm sure," Lauren snorted.

Carlton sighed. "What about...whatever you're doing? Are you sure you can be here?"

She took his arms and looked him in the eyes. "I'm not in the middle of a big project right now, and if I was it wouldn't matter. You're my big brother."

"I—" But if he'd had a thought, he lost it. He looked up at Juliet. "Did you know about this?"

"Not a thing, I swear."

So he looked past her, found Gus, and nodded to him. Gus nodded back. That was all there was to it, but for some reason Juliet's throat was clogging.

Carlton cleared his throat and took a quick look out around bullpen. There was definitely staring going on. "Back to work, people!" he called in no uncertain terms. Everyone started to clear off. "Stick around, O'Hara; we'll get that paperwork in order."

"Sure," Juliet nodded.

Carlton was already ushering his sister into his office, and he was smiling, sort of. It was something.

Juliet wandered over to Shawn and Gus. Shawn was still grinning.

"Dude, you did that?" he said.

Gus shrugged. "Yeah, I mean...I figured Lassie was pretty stubborn, and I had Lauren's number anyway from when she was here filming. I'd never used it, but anyway. Somebody had to get her here."

"That was good, Gus," Juliet told him. The office doors were closed, but through the cracks in the blinds she thought Carlton and his sister were hugging again—longer this time, and more like they should.

Shawn held out a fist and Gus bumped it.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for being patient, ya'll! Busy week at work. Meh. I'll get on the next chapter of Of the Heart later today too and it should be up late tonight or tomorrow. Did I mention writing this stuff for ya'll is my favorite part of the week? And it's kinda rainy here this weekend, which is always the best for writing.

Anyway, thanks so much ya'll! Can't wait to hear from you. :)

BONUS STORY: I adopted a dog a few weeks ago, and she's a tiny blonde Yorkie mix a couple of years old or so. She didn't have a name from the lady who'd gotten her from a shelter. She's perfectly trained and loves to cuddle and she's tiny, sweet, cute, and blonde like Juliet. She's also (almost ridiculously) overconfident, like Lassie. So I named her Carly Jules almost on the spot. Thought you fellow Psych-os might get a kick out of it. ;)

Chapter 13

May 2014

By Wednesday there was a pile of files on the corner of Carlton's desk, and he hadn't touched any of them beyond pulling the few he'd pulled himself. The rest the mayor had sent over.

"It's not time yet," he protested when Juliet asked. "Not until after the service tomorrow night, at least."

"I'm not disagreeing with you; I'm just saying you can't put it off for too long. You can't run this place alone, and you need to be taking some time off yourself anyway."

"I'm more than aware of that, O'Hara," he sighed. He was at his desk and it was nearly lunch. He closed his computer and Juliet perched on the edge of the desk.

She crossed her arms. "Is the mayor being a pain again?"

Carlton sat back and shrugged. "No, actually. He sent a few suggestions but he's not pressing the issue this time." He glared briefly at the small mountain of files. "To be honest, they'll probably just sit there for a while until I decide to give Dobson the job and leave it at that."

" _Dobson?_ "

"Why not? He's been here forever."

This did not sound like the Carlton Lassiter Juliet knew. "He's been here longer than you. He's a good cop. But—"

"He'd do a perfectly adequate job, O'Hara."

"Yeah," she answered, nodding vigorously. "Perfectly _adequate_. But that's not what you need here. That's not what you want; I know it's not. And there's a reason you were head detective and he wasn't."

Carlton didn't try to answer her. He glanced at his watch and pushed out of his chair.

"It's noon," he said.

Which, like the last two days, meant he was going to the hospital to see his daughter. Then he'd go again after work. Lauren, Shawn, and Henry had been taking shifts sitting with her when he wasn't there. None of them wanted her to be alone. Maybe she was three months old and she wouldn't remember later, but that wasn't the point.

"I'm coming," she said. He just nodded.

If she didn't go with him he might forget to eat, even while he spent lunch sitting with Lily and feeding _her_. Juliet hadn't gone Monday, and that was what happened. She wasn't going to make that mistake again. Certainly not while there was more than enough perfectly good food sitting around both at the station and at the house.

It started to come Monday afternoon, and it hadn't stopped. Anything brought to the station was left out for the department or stored in the refrigerator in the break room, and at the house they were still having to label things and freeze them. Thank god Carlton had bought Henry's deep freeze, too, and it was still in the garage. She, Shawn, Carlton and Lauren would never eat that much food before it went bad. Even when Gus got back tomorrow they'd be hard pressed.

Juliet ducked into the break room for the bag of tupperware containers she'd packed this morning, and caught Carlton at the door before he could go out.

"Hold it! Let me check. Take the food." She pushed the insulated bag into his hands and he gave her a look that said _Really?_ but he did as he was told. Also not something she was used to from him.

"What?" he asked, when she came for him. "Is anyone out there?"

"No. We're clear right now."

They'd made it clear after Dobson gave the local media the department's official statement on the Salamatchia ordeal that there would be no more comment, but they'd still been dodging reporters since Monday.

"Getting paranoid, O'Hara?"

She smacked his arm and took the bag back. "Looking out for you. Don't go complaining; you knew what you were getting into when you hired me this week."

It made her feel a little better when he smiled a bit at that.

"You know you're getting paid," he said, on the way to the car.

"You're not paying me."

"The department is not going to take unfair advantage of my personal connections. We're paying you."

"Not much."

"Fine."

"And on one condition."

" _What_ , O'Hara?"

She waited until they were in the car and the doors had closed to answer. "Promise me you're taking the time off once Lily comes home."

He made a face, took a deep breath, and it took a moment for him to look at her. "Once Lily is home and I have a head detective," he amended.

Juliet nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Lauren was the one at the hospital when they arrived today. Shawn had spent much of the night here and he was probably at the house sleeping it off. Carlton went to find a doctor to talk to before he went in, while Lauren helped Juliet locate a microwave.

By the time they returned the containers in the insulated bag were hot instead of cold, and Carlton was in the rocking chair in the corner of Lily's room feeding her. Juliet and Lauren found chairs in the hallway for a few minutes instead, deciding to leave father and daughter alone for a while. The bag would keep the food hot.

"Are you hungry? There's more than enough here; I packed options."

"I'm fine," Lauren said. "And Shawn's dad is coming back in a couple of hours or so."

"As long as you're sure. How are you doing?" Juliet asked.

Lauren shrugged. "FIne. I mean...I came here to help, but there doesn't seem to be a lot for me to do. Not that it's a bad thing; I'm glad Carlton has friends."

"He's glad you're here. Trust me. I guess you would know even better than the rest of us that he's not usually very good at saying those things."

Lauren's response wasn't the one she'd expected. The younger woman winced and looked away. "Not _much_ better. _If_ I know any better." She paused. "I'm not sure I do. I barely know him."

Juliet shifted in her chair. "Well...you just haven't spent a lot of time together in recent years. That's not anyone's fault. Life is...life, you know?" There was a pang in her chest. "I don't really see my brother anymore, either. It's not anyone's choice…"

"What if it was?"

"What?"

Lauren shrugged and motioned absently. "I mean...we didn't get along _badly_ when I was little, but he was already a teenager and he was... _him_ , you know?"

"Oh, do I know," Juliet agreed.

"Exactly. So it was easier to just...believe he had great things to do and to idolize him than to be upset when he didn't have much time for me, and then I came to here to film three years ago and...everything changed. The fantasy dissolved. I didn't know what to think anymore and I just...I think I've avoided him more since then than I should have." She shook her head. "That was...awful. I only met Marlowe _twice_. At the wedding and right after Lily was born. I didn't go home for Christmas last year, or...a lot of other things."

Juliet studied the younger woman. Lauren slouched in her chair and stared at her hands, and glanced often over her shoulder through the blinds, into the hospital room where her brother sat with his daughter.

"You've been worrying about this a lot since you got here, haven't you?"

" _Yes_. Do you know how long he holds grudges? Do you know how long he was angry at our mom after she and Althea became an item? The worst part is, sometimes he won't even _tell_ you if he's angry. Most of the time he does—loudly—but sometimes he doesn't, and when he doesn't it's worse. And usually when he does that it's because he's _hurt_ , and not just angry. And that is _definitely_ worse. I don't want him to feel that way but I can't see how he wouldn't."

Juliet knew what Lauren meant. She'd seen it, the first years she knew Carlton. The bad days during his separation when something had happened and he wouldn't tell anyone and he was far too quiet. She still hated to remember those days. The end of those days were one of the reasons they'd all been so happy when he found Marlowe.

"See? You do know him," Juliet said gently. "You just need some brushing up if you can't tell that he's _not_ angry with you."

"No?"

" _No_. Would he talk about you and your career the way you used to talk about him and his if he was angry? Would he be kind of ticked off that he can't cook everything he remembers you used to like this week because there's already too much food sitting at the house?"

Lauren blinked. "He is? He didn't say anything to me."

"He was complaining at the station yesterday..."

"Oh…"

Lauren looked over her again, through the window. She smiled. "It's more than that though. He's changed, hasn't he? SInce I was here. I mean he's still him—he'll always be him—but..."

Juliet sat back. "In the last three years? Yeah...the last three years have been pretty big for him."

They sat out in the hallway for a while longer. With Juliet working with the SBPD this week it was the first real chance they'd had to talk.

"How long can you stay?" Juliet asked.

"Just this week. I don't have a project right now but I do have a day job. But I'm not as far as you'll be. I can make weekends easier, when I don't have a project. I may soon, though, so I don't know how that'll work out. But I'll be here when I can…what about you?"

"Shawn and I have talked some. We're going to try to do weekends too, when my caseload will allow it."

Lauren nodded. "We should keep in touch. Maybe we can alternate...have someone here as often as we can for while."

Juliet let out a breath. "That would make _me_ feel better; that's for sure."

Carlton, on the other hand, while he would be ultimately happy to see them whenever they could be there, would probably not be happy to know his sister and his friends were purposefully conspiring to keep an eye on him. But what were friends and family for?

When Juliet ventured into the room to remind Carlton to eat Lily was done and asleep in his arms. He was up out of the rocking chair, pacing gently around the room with her.

Thankfully, he also seemed to be deep in thought and hadn't noticed the muted television near the ceiling in one corner was running the news. Juliet found the remote by the bed and switched it off.

That, however, Carlton noticed. He turned at the sound of the click and saw the remote in her hand. He glanced up at the blank television screen and made a face.

"Were they running it again?" he asked.

Juliet sighed. "Everything with Petrovich and Salamatchia was news the first time around, too. You couldn't have expected them not to follow up, especially after they reported the prison break locally. But it's Wednesday; it should be over soon, I'd think. They'll forget about it."

"And it only made it as far as state, right?"

He'd been avoiding the news himself, relying on the rest of them to keep him updated, and Juliet saw nothing wrong with that. The last thing Carlton needed was to turn on a television and see his wife's picture or grainy phone video taken from behind the tape at the crash site.

"Yeah. If it hasn't broken nationally by now I don't think it will."

The one time someone let him near a TV in the station on Monday, he threw something at it. News stations had been banned for the week at the SBPD since then. At least within sight of the chief's office.

"I'm surprised you haven't attacked or yelled at any reporters yet," Juliet teased. He'd kept any more such outbursts or complaining about the media confined to the station and the house. She was trying to make light of it, just for a moment. To make him feel better. A corner of his mouth ticked up, just for a second. But then he was serious again.

"Yeah, well..." Carlton came to the bed and sat down on the edge. He looked down at his daughter in his arms and Juliet wasn't sure what the look on his face meant.

"Believe me; I wanted to more than once," he said. "But as much as I still don't care what they think I guess I thought maybe I don't need any more bad press than than what's already out there. It's all getting so much easier for anyone to track down—stupid internet—no matter how old it is…"

Juliet swallowed. "Lily," she said quietly.

Carlton nodded once. He glanced up at her and back down at his daughter. "I have to set an example, don't I? And it's... _more_ important now. Than ever. Sh-she won't have her mother. Marlowe won't be here to...offset me." He almost laughed, but it ended in a grimace instead.

"What kind of father would I be if I didn't try to make up for that?"

Juliet didn't have the answer, but she did what she could do. She sat down beside him and held up the tupperware container in her hands.

"You need to eat."

* * *

Jules was thinking hard about something. This much was clear to Shawn. What she was thinking _about_ was not, and he had his own subject to broach. Maybe if he did she'd say whatever she had to say.

Though it wasn't a definite thing. His thing was relatively simple.

"Hey...Jules?"

"Hmm?" she asked. He held up the covers for her as she climbed into the bed and fit herself against him.

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"Oh, wait, you called Gus and told him to bring us clothes for tomorrow evening, right?"

"Yeah," Shawn said. "He's got it."

"Sorry. What's up?"

"Not...a lot." He scrubbed at his face. "Saturday's when we're gonna need those clothes again now, right?"

Jules made a face at the ceiling. "Yeah. Lily's coming home Friday, so...yeah. And Carlton wanted me to have time to get back to work for Monday."

"Nice of him."

"I wasn't worried about it, and Karen wasn't either. He insisted though."

"Right." Shawn sighed. "Look, Jules, I know you have to go back, and I don't know what Gus is gonna do, but...I think I'm gonna stay here a while. With Lassie. I mean, not _with_ Lassie if he doesn't want me right in the way or whatever I can crash on Dad's couch or something—"

"Oh, would you?" Jules turned into him and pushed up on an elbow. "Thank god, I'm not the only one who thinks—I mean, he _seems_ okay and it's not that I don't think he will be, but…"

Shawn's eyebrows went up and he sat up all the way. "So you're getting the not-so-okay-yet vibes too then."

She sighed and sat up with him. "Yes. I mean he's doing a lot better than I ever thought he would if anything happened to Marlowe, and...a lot of that probably has to do with Lily. He has her. But still…" Jules shook her head. "Maybe that's the problem. He's _too_ okay. Or I'm afraid he's okay because we're here, and if we're not…"

"It's not like he'd be alone, Jules. My dad is here, and he loves the crap out of Lily, and Lauren is closer than we are, and there's, you know, Woody. And Buzz. And—wait. Oh my god, Jules; Lassie has Toy Story. We had Toy Story the whole time and we totally missed it."

"Focus, Shawn."

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, you know, I just want to stick around a little longer because I _can_ , just so someone's here a little longer, until he's a little _more_ okay, but after that I mean it's not like we won't see him. We've talked about this. We'll visit. And Lassie'll be okay...won't he?"

Juliet nodded seriously and laid back to stare at the ceiling again. "You're right. You're right. He's Carlton; he'll be fine. Eventually. Right?"

"Who's asking who?"

"I don't know!"

Shawn watched her for a moment, and then he knew what she'd been thinking about had something to do with this. "What is it, Jules?"

She let out a heavy breath. "I don't know," she said again. "I've...been thinking. Especially today. Carlton said some things...made me wonder how he's really going to handle everything, especially once Lily's home. How he'll balance…"

"Since when has Lassie balanced anything correctly?"

Jules glared up at him. "Not helping." Her gaze went distant again. "But he's going to try so hard to—to do everything _right_. For Lily. And it's not like we're parents yet—we don't know anything—we can't tell him how to figure that out. But...I can't help feeling like I don't want leave him alone while he's doing it."

"What are you saying, Jules?"

She covered her face with her hands and let out a frustrated sound. "Ah...ok. Look, Shawn, would you…? Would you completely hate me and think I was crazy if I said I was seriously thinking about asking Carlton for the job?"

"The job?"

"The _head detective_ spot, Shawn. Here. The mayor isn't forcing his hand this time. He can hire whoever he wants, and he won't ask me because he doesn't want to put me in that position. I know that's what it is. He doesn't want to make me feel like I'd have to say yes, because he _knows_ I've done a lot of work up in San Francisco, and I love that job and I love Karen, and—"

Shawn layed back down beside her. "Okay, just playing devil's advocate here...then why do you want to come back here?"

"Because it's Carlton," she sighed. "And he needs people around him right now who care about him, and-and we've been dreaming about running that department together for years. Mostly it was just him talking about it, you know how he is, but I didn't disagree! I was right there with him I just...didn't say as much. But I wanted it too."

"Okay."

"So you don't think I'm crazy?"

"No."

"You don't hate me?"

"No."

Now Jules got up again, all the way out of the out of the bed and started pacing.

"Seriously? You uprooted your _entire life_ for me, just a month or so ago, and you're not angry I might want to turn around and say nevermind and come right back here?"

"Jules, have you _read_ my resume? How could I be angry? I used be ten times worse. And as for changing half your life again just for, you know, a friend, I can't diss that either. Gus just did that. If we come back here he'll do it again. He may be a little more upset about it than my complete lack of upset-ness, but he'll do it. And I _did_ uproot for you, and I'd do it again. Because I love you."

Shawn climbed from the bed to take her arms. "We're _all_ crazy, Jules. The sooner you can just accept it and move on the easier it'll be, trust me." Jules laughed tiredly and he pulled her to him. They stayed that way for a while.

"So what, did we just decide to do this?" he asked eventually.

"I don't know," Jules mumbled against his chest. "I'll have to talk to Carlton, but not tomorrow...tomorrow's Brannigan's service and it wouldn't be right. I'll talk to him Friday."

"Okay."

'"You're _sure_ you're okay with this?"

" _Yes_."

"I'll still have to go back Sunday. I'll want to talk to Karen in person."

"Yeah." Shawn tugged on her. "Can we go back to bed now?"

"You slept half the day," she smirked.

"When is sleeping ever a problem for me?"

* * *

Betsy Brannigan had no family, and only two people from her previous post made the trip for her memorial service Thursday evening. It might have been sad, if it weren't for the presence of the entire Santa Barbara Police Department.

"She made an impression," Shawn said. "That's for sure. Kind of wish you'd gotten to know her better, Jules."

"Yeah...me too."

Buzz McNab and her old chief from before her transfer both said a few words. The way her old chief talked about her—fondly, but with a healthy amount of confusion—didn't surprise anyone, and McNab thanked her for giving him a chance.

"Betsy thought I could do more, you know? I don't want to let her down. I hope I can become the detective she thought I could be."

What Juliet would remember was how much she'd cared. In the few minutes, really, that she'd known Betsy Brannigan, Juliet had seen her do her job efficiently and seen her care about her chief as person—a person who happened to be Juliet's closest friend.

Brannigan had saved Carlton Lassiter's life, and that was not something Juliet would soon forget.

When the service ended and the crowd scattered Carlton didn't head for the cars. He moved off across the grass and Juliet hesitated on Shawn's arm.

"Jules?" he asked.

She looked back at him and nodded after Carlton. "I think I'm gonna…"

"Yeah. Okay." Shawn kissed her forehead. "Gus and I'll be the house."

"Thank you."

She didn't catch up right away. She waited for Carlton to break out of his thoughts long enough to know she was behind him. When he turned around with an eyebrow up she was still several yards away.

"You're following me," he said.

"It's almost dark."

"And that necessitates following me?"

Juliet ran a few steps to catch up to him, and when she was at his side he turned back around and continued walking. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer at first. "Dreading Saturday," he answered finally. Softly.

She didn't know what to say to that, but he didn't seem to expect an answer.

"We get to pick Lily up tomorrow," Juliet reminded him after a moment. It didn't cheer him up as much as she'd hoped. He'd been so quiet since they talked at the hospital yesterday, and it was worrying her. "Carlton, what?"

His hands were in his pockets, but she caught his arm and gently brought him back to a stop. Around them the streetlights around the cemetery were popping on, one by one, and they could hear the mechanical humming.

Carlton stopped like she wanted him to, but he stared at the ground. When he did look up he was looking out at nothing in particular, rather than her.

"They both saved my life, O'Hara," he said. "In different ways...both of them did. And they're both gone. Because of me. _You're_ gone because of me. If I hadn't been such an idiot maybe Swaggerty would have trusted me from the beginning and you never would have needed to leave."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, isn't it? And I'm not _that_ much of an idiot; I know why I haven't seen much of Lulu since she came here to film a few years ago. I made an ass out of myself, and Spencer and Guster could only cover so much of that."

Juliet blinked. "Did you hear us yesterday?"

"Not exactly; I figured she'd talk to someone, and it wouldn't be me. It was you?"

"Yesterday at the hospital during lunch. She knows you're not angry; I was able to get that much across."

Carlton nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thank you…"

"Any time. Now tell me what hell you're going on about. You're scaring me."

He huffed. "It seems I'm very good at getting rid of anyone I care about, or anyone who cares about me. That's what I'm going on about."

"Well that's bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You can't really believe that," Juliet insisted.

"Have you met me?" He stuck out a hand. "I'm Carlton Lassiter. I scare people."

She smacked his hand down. "Maybe. Sometimes. But anybody who lets that get to them doesn't deserve to know you any better anyway. I never let it get to me. Shawn never left you alone just because you were you. And Marlowe saw the best in you from the first moment."

"And I don't have any of you anymore," Carlton answered bitterly.

"You have Lily."

"And in eighteen years she'll grow up and she'll leave, too. By then she'll probably hate me, because god knows no matter how hard I try I'll probably screw up enough."

Juliet shook her head. "Oh my god, Carlton, stop it! Not everyone is leaving you! You're smarter than this." She sighed in frustration. " _I'm_ not leaving you."

"After this week—"

"Not even then. Not if you don't want me to."

He gave her the look he gave her in his office, when she was trying to tell him she _was_ leaving, so he could be chief. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"Offer me the damn job!"

"What?"

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't want to talk about this today because it was supposed to be about Brannigan, but you're driving me crazy. Just...offer me the job, Carlton. I've already talked it over with Shawn."

Carlton stared at her for a moment, confused. "But...you _have_ a job. You love San Francisco. You and Karen _built_ that station and—"

She cut him off, holding up a hand. "And you're not telling me anything I haven't been over in my own head two dozen times in the last few days, and I'll still have to go back and talk to Karen because that's not something I want to tell her over the phone. But...she has a lot of good detectives. She's built a good team. Someone else will do just as good a job."

"Don't you have a partner there who wouldn't be happy either?"

"Not...as such," Juliet hedged.

"You've been there for months!"

"And I've worked with a lot of good people, yes, I just haven't, you know...picked one yet. Maybe I didn't want to."

Carlton let out a long breath. "O'Hara…don't do this just because—"

"I'm not. I know what I want. So if you still want me for the job just _ask_ me. I'll say yes."

His mouth open and closed a few times, and Juliet couldn't help herself anymore. She had to hug him, and he didn't complain about it when she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Carlton sighed against her shoulder. "Tomorrow," he said.

Juliet smiled as she let go of him.

"Were you really going to give Dobson the job?" she asked.

He shrugged slightly. "I don't know I just...thought for a little while maybe if I did that I'd have to accept that it was all right for the department to be... _good,_ not necessarily great. I thought if I gave that up it would be easier to focus on raising Lily. She deserves that."

"And the fact that you know that means you're already light-years ahead of a lot of people. You know that, right?"

"Maybe…"

"You can have both," Juliet said firmly. "At least if I have anything to say about it. No, you couldn't do it alone...but you'll have us, ok?"

He almost smiled. "You and Spencer?"

"And Gus, probably, and I don't think Henry's going anywhere, and I have a feeling your sister's going to be around a lot more, too."

"I'm still not hiring psychics."

"We both know Shawn's not—"

"The public doesn't know that," Carlton pointed out.

"Fair point…"

But they could figure the rest out later.

Carlton looked over her shoulder, back to where the service had been and the distinct lack of cars nearby. "I'm your ride now, aren't I?"

"We're going to the same place."

* * *

"Shawn, are you crazy?"

"Quite possibly."

The living room was dim and quiet, and neither of them had changed yet. That was Shawn's fault. He'd brought this up before they hit the door.

"I _knew_ this would happen," Gus huffed.

"Dude, then why did you go back for the interviews?"

"Just in case! I have to cover my bases, Shawn—something you've never been very good at. And this plan is a perfect example. What if it goes badly?"

Shawn shrugged. "It won't! It's perfect. It covers _all_ the bases. I don't know what bases you think I'm missing. Look, do you want to help Lassie, keep putting bad guys in jail, and make a living all at once, or not?"

"You're crazy."

"I accept your assessment."

Gus sighed. "But I'm with you."


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry, ya'll, I know this is a little short. But there's only like one more shortish scene before the funeral (if I even put it before and not after) and stuff going down there is big and will probably make for a long chapter on it's own. (Re:Whatever-Shawn's-planning-that-I-won't-tell-you :P) And where I stopped here was a good stopping point, so yeah. And Of the Heart got updated last night, so I can work on my novel and whatnot tomorrow before the weekend is over. Woo! #weekendgoals

Anyway, I hope you still like this chapter, and I can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thank you!

DISCLAIMER: Carlton's opinion of the show The West Wing is his own. Had to go with what felt right for his super-conservative character. Personally I love that show, even though I'm conservative myself. Because the characters are fantastic.

Chapter 14

May 2014

"Oh my god," Juliet gasped.

Friday morning. She and Carlton had ridden to the station together because she planned to go with him after work anyway, to pick up Lily. As they pulled up to the station they found the front steps surrounded by reporters.

It wasn't even this bad Monday and Tuesday.

"What the hell?" Carlton cursed.

McNab and several other officers emerged from the building to usher them inside. Lassiter remained tight-lipped until the doors closed behind them.

"What's going on out there!" he demanded.

"The story—the whole Salamatchia thing," McNab said. "I-It went national last night. We don't know why it happened _now_ , except maybe renewed interest because of the service last night. Someone got a few seconds of footage...a few pictures. We're not sure how."

"We had a whole detail around the place! That service was _literally_ nothing but law enforcement!"

No one answered that. Things happen. The media finds a way. They all knew that.

Carlton cursed again and let out a breath. "We'll have to make another statement today," he said, resigned.

"That would probably be a good idea," Juliet agreed. He just nodded, and turned to stalk away to his office. She followed.

"I should do it myself this time," he said, when the doors were closed behind them.

"You don't have to do that. Not yet," she told him. "You know they'll only ask you—"

He cut her off. "I know. But if I do it now it might keep them away tomorrow."

"It also might not…"

And maybe it was just her, but Juliet's stomach was twisting thinking about any of it. Carlton was her friend, and all she wanted to do was protect him whether he liked it or not. Everything that had happened in the last week was bringing out every protective tendency she'd ever had, and sometimes it was a strange feeling.

Carlton perched on the edge of his desk and sighed. "I know that too. But I don't have much of a choice. If I avoid the press any longer I look...weak. I haven't been chief here long enough that I can risk that."

Juliet made a face. " _That's_ what you're worried about?"

He spread his hands. "I have to be! Believe me, I wish I didn't."

"You've been watching too much West Wing on Netflix…"

"I would never! You know I can't stand that show," Carlton protested. "I could never stand that show. The administration it depicts is far too liberal."

"We have a liberal administration in _real life_."

"And that's bad enough."

Juliet rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She thought, and there was only one real way to make this any better.

"Let me call Karen," she said after a moment.

Carlton blinked at her. "Hmm?"

"I didn't want to tell her on the phone, but if you can go out there and tell them you have a head detective locked in maybe it'll take some of the focus away from you. I just need to talk to Karen; I don't want her finding out on the news."

He was already shaking his head. "You don't have to do that, O'Hara. I'll be fine."

"And you'll be more fine the fewer questions you have to answer about yourself or your family. Just give me half an hour."

* * *

When he laid out his plan, Henry looked at him much the same way Gus had last night, and then Juliet after that. Shawn was beginning to wonder himself if he had the right idea.

"What did Juliet say?" his dad asked.

He shrugged, standing in Henry's tiny new kitchen. "She's, you know...I mean, it's not perfect but it's...better. She kind of tried to talk me out of it, but I could tell she didn't want to. It's as close as I can get to making her a completely honest woman without ruining _everything_ ; of _course_ she's on board."

"Yeah…"

" _What_ , Dad?"

"Nothing." But he was smiling a little.

Shawn smirked. "You're on her side, aren't you?"

"Probably more Gus's side. I think you're crazy, but I also think it can work. It won't be easy, though. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah. No kidding," Shawn grimaced.

Henry shifted on his feet. "So...when?"

"Not sure. Just gonna wait for the right time, I guess."

"Uh huh." There really wasn't anything else to say. Henry changed the subject. "Where's Gus?" he asked.

"What? Shawn said. "Oh. Yeah, he's supervising the moving people getting all his boxes and stuff into storage."

"I'm confused," Henry admitted. "I thought you just finished telling me all of you are moving back to Santa Barbara."

"He's being all adult. Says he's gonna find a smaller place for a couple years. Cheaper, you know. Build his savings back up after all the recent unemployment. He's gonna stay with his parents until he finds one. That, and a job."

Henry laughed once. "I'm sure they're thrilled about that."

"They are, actually. It's super weird."

"They always were."

"Dad!"

"Sorry."

* * *

Shawn, Gus, and Henry would be waiting at the house when Carlton and Juliet got there with Lily that afternoon. That was the plan. None of them really felt like a party, but they all wanted to be there. Lauren was at the hospital when they arrived, and she rode home with them.

At the house, though, an extra car waited on the street. A nice one. Likely not media then, but Juliet didn't recognize it.

"Who is that?" she asked aloud. She said it before she realized it wasn't likely Carlton had any idea either.

But he was squinting out the windshield, face unreadable, and he answered her. "Irving," he said.

" _Irving_?" Lauren echoed from the back. She didn't sound happy.

It took Juliet a moment, but she placed the name. "Parker?" she questioned.

His first father-in-law. Victoria's father. They all met him six years ago, on the case at the Monarch lodge, but she supposed Lauren had met him before that. It would explain the expensive car, considering the business he owned.

Carlton nodded. He didn't seem as upset as his sister sounded.

"You want me to get rid of him?" Lauren asked. Juliet silently gave her points for that.

"It's all right, Lulu," he sighed. "We've...been on speaking terms. The case at the lodge mended a fence or two, at least between myself and Irving. I don't pretend to understand it."

"As long as you're completely sure about that," Juliet said warily.

He shrugged and pushed his door open.

"I'll get Lily," Lauren said.

Carlton nodded and climbed out of the car.

Irving Parker was already halfway out of his own car ahead of them on the street. He was thinner than he'd been several years ago, and he seemed shorter—a progression that had already begun when they met him then.

Carlton was closing the short distance between the cars, but he froze when the passenger-side door opened. The tinted windows had kept them from seeing there was anyone else in the car, but Juliet didn't have to be a detective to know who the woman was getting out.

Behind Juliet, Lauren cursed. She'd gotten Lily from her carseat and was watching anxiously. "He can't be serious," she said. Undoubtedly she was speaking of Irving.

"Wait," Juliet whispered over her shoulder. "That's—?"

"Victoria. Yeah," Lauren confirmed.

Irving, for his part, at least seemed to realize he'd made a mistake. Everyone frozen now, and he made a face. Apologetic. It didn't matter.

The front door of the house opening broke the silence. Shawn, coming out to the porch.

"No," Carlton said. It was all he said—all he said loud enough for Parker and his daughter to hear, anyway. He spun quickly and came to scoop Lily from Lauren's arms.

" _Now_ you can get rid of them," he said brusquely, to her and to Juliet. He took the diaper bag from his sister too, swung it over his shoulder, and retreated hastily up the walk. In the brief glimpse Juliet got of it, the look on his face made her want to punch whatever had caused it.

Luckily enough, that _whatever_ was a woman she'd long since kind of wanted to hurt anyway, and she even had the audacity to call after Lassiter. "Carlton!"

"Lassie?" Shawn was saying, as Carlton passed him. Carlton didn't turn around, didn't answer anyone, and the front door slammed after him.

Lauren literally pushed her sleeves up. "Oh, it's on now."

This was not a side they'd seen of Carlton's little sister the first time she was here.

"Whoa," Juliet said, catching her. "We don't need anybody arrested," she whispered. "Listen, could you just make sure Carlton's all right? Let me handle this." Just as much as she felt the same, she trusted herself, at least, not to completely lose it.

"But—"

"What are you gonna do; punch an old guy?"

"I might punch _her_ ," Lauren growled.

"Yeah, and I'd love to too, but that's really not appropriate," Juliet insisted. "God, I can finally tell who you're related to, and if you want to take that as a compliment...fine, it kind of is right now. _Go inside_."

Lauren huffed, but she finally listened.

Irving hadn't budged from beside his car, but Victoria was halfway up the walk. Shawn was already coming down from the porch to ward her off, and Lauren swung widely around her on the way to the house and glared daggers.

Juliet hurried after Victoria, meeting her and Shawn in the middle of the yard.

"I don't think so!" Juliet called. "What part of _no_ did you not understand?"

She swung in front of the other woman, cutting her off, and she and Shawn formed a human barricade.

"Yeah, I only caught about half of all that and I still _really_ don't think he wants to see you," Shawn pointed out. "And we don't even _need_ him for this to be a _really_ bad place for you to be right now. You've kind of got a house full of people who hate you here."

"You've never met me."

"And we never wanted to," Juliet shot back.

Shawn held up a fist between them. "Nice, sweetheart."

In any other situation among adults, she would have waited until later to take him up on the bump and the compliment, but she had to admit this was not about maturity.

This was about family.

So she took the fist bump, without even needing to look.

"Get out of my way," Victoria glared.

"Yeah, not happening," Shawn said.

"I just wanted to—"

"If you actually cared about Carlton and not just making _yourself_ feel better, you wouldn't be here," Juliet cut in vehemently. "Or you would have at _least_ left when he made it clear he didn't want you here. _Leave_."

Irving caught up to his daughter, already apologizing aloud. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have brought her with me. This was a bad idea."

"You _think_?" Juliet answered. "What _ever_ made you consider it might be a _good_ idea?"

Victoria was gaping at all three of them. "I am literally _right_ here."

"Shut up," all three of them said together.

"Dad! This is ridiculous! I—"

"Get back in the car, Tori! Stop embarrassing yourself!"

 _That_ Juliet had not expected. Her memory told her Irving Parker was loud and obnoxious and opinionated, but from everything she'd heard of Victoria, she was worse. For some reason she hadn't expected Irving to overpower her like that.

And it was working. She wasn't happy about it, but it was working. Victoria fumed silently for a moment, staring all of them down, but when none of them backed off she spun and stormed back to her father's car.

"Thank you," Juliet said, when the car slammed.

Parker sighed. "I'm sorry," he said again. "She seemed so sincere when she asked to come; I didn't expect her to make an ass of herself thirty seconds after getting out of the car." He huffed. "A lifetime of experience should have told me different."

"Look…" Juliet trailed. "Carlton was fine until he realized she was here. It's not you. If you want to come to the funeral tomorrow I don't think he'd mind, just…" She nodded toward the car, and he seemed to see what she meant.

"I'll make sure she doesn't," he agreed.

They were all quiet for a moment.

"Carlton says you've been...talking?" Juliet asked.

Irving shrugged. "He calls every couple of months, checks up on me. My health isn't what it was, you know. We've had lunch a time or two in the last few years."

"How does that work?" Shawn asked in confusion.

"We _don't_ talk about my daughter."

When they were gone Shawn and Juliet found Carlton in the kitchen with Henry, Gus, and Lauren. Henry was pacing around the table with Lily, who seemed to have just finished a crying a jag, Carlton was leaned heavily against the counter by the refrigerator with his sister at his side, and Gus stood awkwardly in the middle of it all.

"And they are _gone_ , gonzo, outta here," Shawn announced happily.

"Carlton?" Juliet asked.

He looked up. He still seemed a little dazed, but he nodded that he was fine.

It wasn't the first time today he'd looked like that. He looked like that in his office after going out to give the press a statement. The plan had worked, for the most part—announcing his new head detective had taken much of the focus away from him and what had happened to his family, but there had still been questions.

He'd handled it well. She had to give him that. But she was also glad she'd been there for him when it was over.

Carlton cleared his throat and pushed off from the counter. "There's still plenty of food here," he said. "You should all stay and eat, if you want."

It seemed that would be the end of it, until the doorbell rang.

"Oh my god, really?" Shawn complained.

"I'll get it," Juliet said quickly, before Carlton could feel like he needed to.

She opened the door expecting a fight—whether either of the Parkers had made their way back already, or it was reporters or anything else—but it wasn't needed.

"Karen!"

Karen Vick's eyebrows went up. "Expecting someone else?"

Juliet shook her head to clear it. "No, no, sorry...long story." She stepped back to let her inside. Karen closed the door and Juliet hugged her, maybe a little harder than she needed to.

"You didn't say if you were coming when we talked this morning," Juliet said.

"I didn't know whether I could get away. I spent all morning doing my best to wrap up everything I could—make sure the fort would be held. I couldn't start driving until after lunch."

"You have a place to stay?"

"I booked a hotel before I left. Internet's useful, you know."

Juliet laughed tiredly. She let go, finally, and Karen was studying her.

"You all right?" the chief asked.

Juliet shrugged. "I'm...it doesn't matter."

"Sure it does." Karen paused. "When I let you go for the week I expected to get you back. All of this...it's a lot to take in. For anyone."

"Yeah," Juliet sighed. "I know, I...I'm fine. And I'm sorry…"

"I told you not to apologize; I understand. To be honest...I admire your decision, Juliet. How could I be upset?"

And because neither of them really knew what to do here they hugged again, just for a second. When they let go this time, Carlton was there, coming around the corner; he must have realized the distinct lack of shouting meant maybe whoever was here was someone he should see. He stopped when he saw Karen, but it wasn't a bad pause. Not this time.

"Chief," he said.

She almost smiled. "Chief," she said. She went to him and hugged him too. "I'm so sorry, Carlton…" she was saying. Carlton was thanking her, and Shawn came around the corner, and the others weren't far behind.

"Hey, look," Shawn said. "Gang's all here."

And Karen was right. The week had been hard—a lot for anyone to take. If any of them were alone it would be different.

But they weren't alone.


	15. Chapter 15

As usual, thank you so so much to everyone reading and reviewing. Ya'll are the best! :)

Chapter 15

May 2014

"Nope," O'Hara said. She was heading Carlton off from the living room, prodding him back. He could hear the television on low and the measured tones of what was clearly news, but he couldn't make any of it out.

"No you don't. Stay in the kitchen. And _don't_ worry about the dishes; I'll be in to take care of them later. Or better yet, I'll make Shawn and Gus do it," she said. Carlton gave her a look, but she just pointed over his shoulder. "Go!"

He retreated on protest—it wasn't as if he particularly _wanted_ to be watching the news, but he couldn't hide from it forever—but at least in the kitchen he wasn't alone. Henry had left not long ago, but Karen was still at the table nursing a cup of decaf.

"They've been acting like that all week," Carlton complained. He dropped back into a chair at the table and Karen smiled a little over the rim of her mug.

"They're your friends, Carlton; that's what they're supposed to be doing."

"Ordering me around?"

"Protecting you." She held up a hand. "And don't give me you-don't-want-them-to; if you really wanted them to stop, you'd have made them by now. There's nothing wrong with appreciating it."

Carlton huffed once, quietly. "I still have to protest; have an image to keep up, don't I?"

Karen just smiled knowingly at that.

"A few years ago you'd never have let them...or anyone," she said after a moment. "Had to do everything yourself."

He shrugged once and glanced toward the stairs. Lily was asleep above them. "I don't have that luxury anymore."

Karen glanced up briefly too, and seemed to know what he meant.

"It's more than that," she said. The smile came back. The one that meant she always knew more than they thought.

"They wore you down, Carlton." Her head inclined a bit. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I think you're better for it."

Carlton hiked an eyebrow at her. "You been taking know-it-all lessons from Spencer?"

"I don't need lessons for that."

As if on cue, Spencer's voice from the next room followed her answer. "Lassie! They're going on about me now; living room's safe!"

* * *

Juliet woke up to the sound of Lily crying in the next room. Deeper hushed tones told her Carlton was awake and seeing to his daughter, but something made her get up anyway. At least now she had proper pajamas.

In Lily's room Carlton was pacing around the room with her, speaking to her quietly and trying to soothe her. A fresh bottle sat on the nightstand by the rocking chair in the corner.

There were sheets and a blanket and pillows on the twin bed shoved to the back of the room. Carlton had been sleeping in here this week. She'd known it, but being reminded didn't make Juliet feel any better.

"Carlton?" she asked. She closed the door behind her; Shawn and Lauren were still asleep, presumably.

He paced over to her, rubbing Lily's back. It didn't seem to be helping. "I'm sorry," he said. "I changed her, I tried to feed her; she's _been_ sleeping…"

"Don't apologize." Juliet held out her arms. "Want me to try?"

"I'm not sure what good it would do."

"Let me do it anyway. Maybe you should go downstairs and try to get back to sleep. I can put her back to bed. It'll be a long day tomorrow; you should rest."

He shook his head. "So should you."

Juliet gave him a look. "You know what I mean. Are you going to let me try, or not?"

Carlton let out a breath, and let her take Lily. The little girl thrashed against her for a moment, still wailing, but after a moment something seemed to change. She started to relax.

"Yeah, see?" Juliet said softly. "You're okay. And you're pretty. Does your daddy tell you you're pretty?"

She heard Carlton make a small sound at that. Maybe a laugh. He handed her the bottle from the nightstand and Juliet shifted Lily down in her arms and offered her the bottle. She took it now, but this wasn't going to work for long standing up. The arm holding Lily was going to get tired.

"Do you want her back, or should I not interrupt her now?" Juliet asked.

Carlton guided her toward the rocking chair, and that was a much better way to do it.

"I'll be back," Carlton said.

"Okay?"

Juliet looked up, but he was already slipping out of the room. Had his voice sounded thicker just then? But there was nothing she could do now. Lily needed to eat.

The door opened again a minute or two later. Juliet glanced up again hoping it was Carlton, but it Shawn. He padded in and yawned.

"Jules? What's up?" He scrubbed at his eyes, took in the room, and seemed to note Carlton's absence. "Where's Lassie?"

"I don't know. I think I need to find him." Juliet got to her feet and circled around behind Shawn to herd him to the rocking chair. "Sit down there. I need you to take her."

"What?"

"I need you to finish feeding her for me."

"I don't know how to do that!"

Juliet backed Shawn into the chair. "If you want all those kids you need to learn. Here."

She placed Lily in his arms and gave him quick instructions. When he seemed to have the hang of it and Lily seemed to be feeding comfortably she hurried quietly out into the hallway.

The door to the upstairs bathroom was open, and it was dark in there. The door to the master bedroom was closed, but that was where Lauren was. The only place left was downstairs. Maybe Carlton had listened to her after all.

But she didn't have to go all the way down to find him. She nearly tripped over him in the dim stairwell on the landing halfway down.

"Carlton?"

He was huddled on the top step of the bottom half of the stairs, leaned over his knees, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. When Juliet lowered herself to the step beside him and draped an arm around his shoulders she could hear the breaths he was taking—deep and measured. The kind of breaths you take if you're trying not to cry.

"Carlton…" She was leaning in so close she said it almost into his shoulder. He didn't answer. The heavy breaths continued, growing more uneven rather than better.

"It's okay to cry more than once, you know," she whispered.

He did, just for a minute or two, muffled and stiff and Juliet's heart ached, but all she could do was sit with him.

"I think…" he said, when he could. He cleared his throat quietly. "I think she knows something's wrong now. Lily. She um...at the hospital _everything_ was different. After a day or two she accepted it, I guess, but we're home now, and it's her bed, and...and she thinks everything should be back to normal. She expects Marlowe to be here, but she's not…"

Carlton trailed off abruptly. It sounded like his throat closed on him and he had no choice but to stop. He made a face and looked away. Juliet waited, because she didn't think he needed her to say anything yet. He needed her to listen.

"If you hadn't been there at the hospital with me this week and she hadn't gotten used to you, I don't know if that would have worked," he told her, referring to the fact that Lily had calmed down for her. He paused. "Thank you...Juliet. Everything this week. You and Henry, and Lulu...even Spencer and Guster. I don't know if I could have...I mean I um…"

He stopped again. This time Juliet spoke up.

"We love you," she said, because whether he was Carlton Lassiter or not it was time to put that into worlds. "We all do. Please tell me you know that."

Carlton looked at her, and she was almost afraid he would say something...him. But then he didn't. He just nodded.

"I'd still rather skip tomorrow," he said after a moment.

"I think we all would," she agreed.

"My mother is going to be here early...god…"

There was movement above them, and when they glanced up Lauren climbed over her brother to sit on the step below him. She took his hand squeezed. "Don't worry; I'll take Mom duty," she said.

Carlton released a breath that wasn't really a laugh, but it was close enough.

Shawn was next, padding down the stairs after her.

"Hey," he whispered, poking his head around the bend in the stairs. "Lily drank most of the stuff, and then she fell asleep, and I put her back in her bed. That's good, right?" He didn't wait for an answer to climb over Juliet and huddle down with the rest of them. "Why is there a party on the stairs without me?"

"It was a conspiracy, Shawn," Juliet said seriously.

"Well that's no good. I don't know how I feel about that."

Carlton shook his head at them and tried to get to his feet. "All of you go back to sleep. I'll be downstairs."

"Why will you be downstairs?" Lauren questioned suspiciously. She dragged him back down, and Juliet helped.

"Because I don't think _I'm_ going back to sleep; I'll be fine."

"You need to sleep," Juliet protested. "It's a long day tomorrow."

"You said that already, O'Hara."

"It's true."

But he wasn't listening to her. He stood up again.

Shawn jumped up too. "I'm making popcorn!" he said, and he darted down the stairs before Carlton could.

Juliet pushed up to follow. " _Popcorn_? It's three in the morning, not movie night. We have to make pancakes. Obviously."

* * *

Spencer and O'Hara charged down into the kitchen and started to turn lights on. Carlton watched them go, stalled on the stairs, and Lauren got up but stayed behind at his side.

"Carlton?"

"Hmm?" he asked. He was distracted.

"I love you too, you know."

Carlton blinked and glanced down at his sister, and when he did she hugged him. "Lulu?"

"I'm sorry...I avoided you…" she said quietly.

"I probably deserved it; I ignored you enough when you were little…"

She snorted. "So what, we're even now?"

"No, not even close. And that's my fault."

Lauren shook her head against him. "Don't say that. Let's just say we are, ok?"

Carlton hesitated. "If that's what you want."

"That's what I want." She let go of him so she could look up at him more easily. "Can we start over?"

And he couldn't answer that, not right now, because his throat was clogging again. But he nodded, and she took his hand again and pulled him down the stairs after her.

"I heard something about pancakes."

* * *

The house was full after the service and Jules stayed busy helping Lassiter's mother and sister with anything food-related. Every time Shawn passed Gus he was _eating_ food, to distract himself enough not to succumb to his sympathetic-crying habit.

It was also probably a nervous tic, seeing as half the people here were probably ex-cons. Friends Marlowe had made who'd gotten out since or during her prison stint. Some of them looked like it. The most obvious were Big Wendy and some sort of entire posse she'd brought with her. Woody was following them around with gusto. Chief Vick was splitting her time between the kitchen and breaking up possible fights between the varied guests.

Henry hovered in a corner and seemed to wish to remain invisible. Sometimes he had Lily, and sometimes Lassie took her back. Both of them seemed to have figured out that if they were carrying a half-asleep baby they were less likely to be bothered.

Outside, McNab and a couple of the other younger guys from the station were taking it upon themselves to patrol the picket fence at the edge of the yard, occasionally yelling at approaching reporters. Well. Some of them yelled. McNab politely asked them to leave.

So Shawn was on his own. He was trying to keep an eye on Lassie, but Lassie was good at disappearing when he really wanted to. After a little while, he did, and Henry didn't have Lily.

Shawn found both of them hiding out the back door, in the garage. Not that this garage had ever really _used_ as a garage. There was always too much stuff in here. There was _still_ too much stuff in here, and half of it was still his dad's. Come to think of it, Lassie'd said something earlier in the week about there still being old Spencer boxes in the attic, too.

Good job getting rid of the house, Henry.

"What are you doing?" Shawn whispered. Lily seemed to be really asleep now, on her father's shoulder.

Lassie was anxiously pacing the concrete floor, occasionally pausing to peer through a small side window of the garage at the small crowd of media on the street. His breathing was leaning dangerously in the direction of panic-attack levels.

He also didn't answer. Shawn didn't know if he'd noticed anyone else was there.

"Lassie!" Shawn called, a little louder.

Lassiter spun at his name, on high alert. He'd seemed fine, mostly, until now, but it had been a long day.

"Spencer?"

"Yeah. Just me. _What are you doing?_ "

"What does it look like I'm doing? Keeping myself sane."

"Are you ok?"

He waved one arm. "Of course I'm not okay! Pancakes doesn't fix how much I didn't want to do this!"

Shawn made a face and wandered closer. "I know that, man...they're just a perk. Look, it's almost over. Everybody'll be gone soon."

Lassie was shaking his head, like that wasn't acceptable. "I need these people out of my house," he said. His voice was ticking higher than usual—something he certainly wouldn't have allowed to happen in front of Shawn under any normal circumstances. The last time Shawn heard it himself, Marlowe was about to give birth in the back of a food truck.

Lassiter's waving arm motioned to the window, and his voice dropped back down and became more firm. "I need _those_ people _away_ from my house. Telling them about O'Hara coming back here was supposed to _help_ today. Of course it didn't; it barely helped _yesterday._ Cause they're all vicious little— "

"Whoa, Lassie...calm down." Shawn was holding up hands, trying to help, and…

Then he knew what to do.

He held up one finger instead. "Actually, I've got this."

"What, Spencer?" Lassie asked. It came out tired and confused.

"Clarification first: If there was an alternate universe where no one thought I was psychic but you still knew how good I was, you'd hire us, right?"

Lassiter blinked at him. "What?"

He tried again. "If there was magically a way for the public to think I'm not psychic without having to tell anyone about the actual, you know, lying and all, you'd hire us as normal consultants, right?"

Lassie rubbed at his head. "I have no idea what the hell you're going on about, but I told you years ago: You get results, and I can't argue with that. Unfortunately."

"You were more than a little drunk at the time."

"Sadly, I still meant it."

"Just checking. So that's a yes?"

"FIne! I guess it is. What do you want from me, Spencer? There's no way—."

Shawn cut in, swung behind him, and urged him toward the door back into the house. "That's what you think. Come on; back inside."

"What…?"

"No questions! Go hang out in the living room or something. Anywhere with lots of people. I'll be right there."

"Spencer, I really don't have the energy for your nonsense today. I—"

But Shawn shushed him and gave him a push back into the kitchen. Lassie glanced back and rolled his eyes, but he wandered reluctantly off in the direction of the living room and most of the people.

Shawn found Jules first, and tugged her into a corner of the kitchen. "It's go time."

"It's _what?_ "

"Lassie's hit critical."

"Oh my god, Shawn, are you sure this is—?"

He silenced her with a kiss, and she didn't complain about that.

"Not sure at all," he said after. He tried to move off, to find Gus, but Jules grabbed him back and kissed him again.

"I love you," she said.

Gus said the same thing Jules had said first, when Shawn passed him and whispered it was go time, but Gus said it around a mouthful of food.

"It's _what?_ "

"Go time. Show time. You found me somebody?"

Gus swallowed and set his plate down the food table beside him. "Actually, Hazel's in town visiting James Earl Craig."

"Huh," Shawn said. "How _is_ the old homelessman?"

"Not homeless anymore, thankfully. And he's much better after making a full recovery from the poison."

"Sweet."

* * *

Carlton found Henry in a corner of the living room, and chose to station himself there.

"Your offspring is up to something," he grumbled.

"He usually is." Henry motioned to Lily. "She asleep? I can take her."

Because he didn't know what Spencer was up to, he agreed. Henry took Lily off his hands. Spencer and Guster, meanwhile, ambled into the living room. They were pretending to talk, but they caught his gaze and Guster made a subtle nod toward the yard.

Carlton nodded back in confusion, but he waited. Through the front windows his eyes followed them outside, and nothing happened at first.

Then Spencer collapsed dramatically in the grass near the fence.

"What the _hell_ …?"

O'Hara elbowed past him on her way to the front door. "Come on," she said.

"What is he _doing_?"

"I'm not supposed to know yet," she whispered. She pushed the front door open and raced down the front steps, luckily bringing her on-the-job acting skills to bear rather than her real ones. "Shawn!" she called. "Shawn, what's wrong!"

Spencer was writhing in the grass shouting, Guster was standing over him, and the media was certainly starting to notice.

"Gus!" Spencer cried. He came up on one elbow, the other hand clutching at his chest. "Something's _wrong_! I can't feel them, Gus! It's wrong; it's empty! Oh spirits, don't abandon me!"

Guster dropped down beside his friend to hold his arm, and called to the crowd in the yard. "He's having a psychic heart attack! Someone call 911!"

Oh dear god, what was this nonsense?

The cameras on the other side of the fence were going, the reporters were chattering, but no one seemed to have noticed Carlton was out here. They were all focused on Spencer.

But he supposed that was the idea.

"Wait!" O'Hara was saying. Now she was kneeling in the grass with them too. "We don't need an ambulance; I'll take him."

"A hospital can't help me, Jules. It's the spirits! I can't feel them! It hurts, Jules. It hurts!"

She took Spencer's hand, and she was doing a fantastic job of looking worried.

It also probably had something to do with the fact that she'd purposefully placed her back to the crowd of reporters. If she could see the cameras she'd be choking.

"What are you _talking_ about, Shawn? Where are they?" O'Hara asked.

"I don't know!" Spencer curled in on himself and cried out. "Someone help! I need...someone. Hazel!" He looked up again, eyes wild. "The good witch Hazel! My dear friend! Before...I sensed she was near. I need her! She can tell me what's happening!"

The cameras were getting all of this, of course, just the way Spencer liked it.

But _what was he doing?_

Carlton sensed someone at his elbow, and glanced sideways to find Lauren there.

"Oh my god," she said. "Is Shawn ok?"

"I...have no earthly idea."

"Ok, Shawn," Guster was saying, evenly and loudly for the cameras. "But maybe we should get you to a hospital anyway, just in case. You're right—Hazel's in town—but I can call her and she can meet us there. Ok?"

Shawn nodded in a shown of mock reluctant agreement. "Ok, Gus. You're right. We should be sure there's nothing physical in my condition." He looked up earnestly. "Do you think she can fix it? The spirits can't be gone, Gus! I need them!"

Carlton let out a breath as Guster and O'Hara pulled Spencer to his feet. They supported him as they made their way slowly for O'Hara's car.

The media teams on the street broke for their own cars and vans. They were going to follow, and apparently that really had been the plan all along.

Carlton saw his chance to clear the premises, and turned to the crowd from inside the house that had come out at the spectacle.

"I'm sorry, everyone, but if you could all go home now I'd like to go with them," he told them. "Mr. Spencer is my former partner and new head detective's fiance, after all, and a long time acquaintance, and I'd like to be sure he's all right. Thank you, to all of you, for coming out today; I appreciate the support, but if you'll excuse me..."

Lauren followed a few steps with him when he made a beeline after O'Hara and the others. "I'll stay here with Lily," she said.

"Henry and Karen can stay too, if they want," he said. "And Mom and Althea, I suppose. Just make sure everyone else leaves?"

"No problem."


	16. Chapter 16

I know this is a little short, but I really wanted to end where I ended. You'll see. ;) The next chapter will start Part 2, which will get back to more of what's going on in 2030 and filling in some of the in-between.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Can't wait to hear from ya'll, and have a great weekend!

(Also, I'll get back to Of The Heart soon, I promise, just maybe not this weekend. There's been a lot going on.)

Chapter 16

May 2014

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Spencer?"

It was the first thing to come out of Carlton's mouth when the exam room door closed behind them. The four of them—Spencer, O'Hara, Guster, and himself—were alone now, and he still wasn't entirely certain what was going on.

Spencer was swinging his legs off the edge of the exam table. He grinned. "One stone, a whole lotta birds, Lassie."

"Please make sense."

Guster was just sort of standing there, but O'Hara was pacing. As much as she could pace in the small space, anyway. He supposed two steps each way still counted.

"Look, I know we got you out of there, and you're welcome by the way," Spencer said. "But that wasn't the point. It just turned out to be a good time to enact a much larger _plan_." He made a sweeping gesture.

"A plan for _what_?"

"For everything! Don't you get it? Hazel'll show up, and I'll ask her to, you know, read me or something because obviously no doctor's going to find anything wrong with me—"

"That's debatable," Carlton hedged.

Spencer shushed him. "It's perfect! I'll ask her if she can sense any connection to the spirit world, any psychic _anything_ , and she won't, cause I'm not, and then I'll have corroboration. Something's happened! My powers are gone! I go out there with her and tell the press, and it's sad, and _I'm_ sad, but I hope I can still use the skills I've learned to help the city, bla bla bla, and they have a new story and they stop bothering you."

Carlton was already shaking his head. "No. No no no. You are not going to do something this... _drastic_ just because...we need the press to refocus." He wasn't comfortable wording it any other way. Her didn't know what was going on in Spencer's scrambled brain.

"Lassie, come on. It's not just that, and you know it. I mean yeah, because of... _stuff_ , this is a good time to do something. But I've been kida...tossing ideas around, I guess."

Carlton let out a breath and narrowed his eyes in confusion. By now they'd all known him long enough that he didn't have to actually ask for Spencer to get the message he should fill in the blanks.

Spencer got it, but he hesitated. He exchanged glances with his fiance and his best friend before he went on. His energy level dropped a notch or two and he continued a little more seriously.

"Look...we let it rest a while, you and Jules start Gus and me back on some easy cases, test the waters, and eventually everybody forgets about it and we're back to just doing our thing but we're legit. You know, 'isn't that the guy who used to be psychic?' That's the idea."

It didn't make sense. Shawn Spencer lived off of attention. Being in the spotlight. Doing detective work somewhat legitimately wouldn't give him nearly as much of that; Carlton would know.

"Why?" he asked.

Spencer smiled uneasily and reached out to O'Hara. Her pacing slowed to a stop and she took his hand.

"Because...because if I do this Jules can stop lying. Once we get through the weird transition phase, anyway. And I know that won't be easy. But eventually she won't have to lie for me anymore. And Gus won't lose sleep at night over legality issues, and you can hire us without worrying about ruining your no-nonsense reputation. This is best for everybody."

"What about you?" O'Hara said, finally speaking up. "Are you _sure_?"

"We talked about this, sweetheart. I'm good with this too. It's great! I can bring home relatively legitimate bacon! Why do you keep asking?"

"Because I love you."

And Spencer loved her. That was the reason.

Carlton could understand that. He just never thought he'd see such an act from Spencer.

"You _will_ hire us, right?" Guster was asking.

"It doesn't matter, Gus," Spencer said. But he was looking at O'Hara.

Carlton couldn't answer, because he badly needed to clear his throat. They were interrupted by commotion out in the corridor, and it gave him the cover he needed as he turned away to crack the door and glance out.

It was McNab, escorting Hazel down the hallway. He'd followed them here to help fend off the reporters that were still hovering in the lobby and outside.

Carlton warned Spencer they were on their way, and the fake psychic immediately launched full swing into performance mode. By the time the door burst open again his eyes were wide and he met Hazel's confusion with his own mock panic.

"Hazel!" he cried. "Thank god you're here."

"Shawn, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?" she retorted.

"I don't know! That's the problem. That's why I need you. I can't feel the spirits, Hazel! This has never happened before! Not without the influence of decidedly illegal drugs, anyway." She gave him a strange look, and he paused. "Okay, that came out wrong. Wasn't my fault. We got drugged. Me and Lassie and Gus and Woody that one time. We were victims! Super long story."

O'Hara snorted, Guster made an uncortable noise, and Carlton crossed his arms unhappily. "Get to the point, Spencer," he growled.

"Yes! Right. Something's wrong with me, Hazel! I need you to tell me where the spirits have gone!"

"I'm not psychic! I'm a witch."

"Yes, but I know you, Hazel. I wouldn't trust anyone else." Spencer looked around surreptitiously. "See, there's more to it than that. Recently things have been...weird."

She eyed him skeptically. " _Weird_?"

"Yes! Weird. In the old days the spirits just _gave_ me the answers, you know? That's how it started. But then...time went on, and it wasn't that way anymore. They showed me _other_ things. Like where to look, and the how and why of everything. Like they were trying to teach me something. How to see things other people didn't see. But I never thought they'd just _leave_!"

Carlton realized Hazel was a test run. This was the story Spencer would tell the press. This was how he was going to sell the loss of his "powers" and still eventually be taken seriously as a real investigator.

It was ridiculous, but it just might work. Then again, he'd come to expect no less from Spencer.

"Shawn, are you tryin' to tell me you think your spirits taught you how to catch murderers and then flew the coop?" Hazel questioned.

"I don't know! Maybe. God, I hope not. As much as they've taught me, I still can't do as much without them! I can't communicate with the dead, with victims. Justice will be slower! Probably. Maybe. Or maybe this is just a hiccup. Can you tell if you sense anything? If I still have a connection? Will they come back? You've got to help me out, Hazel."

She studied him a moment longer and threw up her hands. "Fine! I'll see what I can do."

* * *

This was really happening. Eight years of this, of this job in this town and being 'psychic,' and Shawn was about to step out there and end it all.

He told himself there was always the backup plan. He could always claim later that his powers had returned if it didn't work out. It'd be even more risky to try, but the option was always there, right?

No no no. That was stupid. He was doing this for _reasons_. Real reasons. Jules and Gus and Lassie and Lily and…

Hell, even Henry would sort of be getting something out of it. Maybe he'd get to be proud.

Shawn would still have everything else. His friends and Jules and his life, and helping people. He'd still be able to help people.

"I'm sorry, Shawn, but I don't think your spirits are coming back. You're reading as normal as they come," Hazel told him. As expected. Also as expected, a doctor looked him over after and told him there was nothing wrong with him.

There was still a decent gaggle of reporters outside the hospital. It was time. Gus was looking uneasy and Jules kept squeezing his hand. Lassie kept giving him strange looks, like _he_ couldn't figure out if this were really happening either.

They were halfway down the corridor, Hazel in tow to help with the press announcement, when Henry Spencer pushed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

"Dad?" Shawn asked.

They met him in the middle. Henry shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at Hazel, and kept his answer vague.

"I uh...I wanted to be here," he said.

"Yeah…" Shawn trailed.

And dammit, now he'd have to be sure he could _talk_ before he went out there. Or maybe not. Being a little choked up would sell it, and Henry never had to know it wasn't all acting.

* * *

"How long have you been planning this?" Carlton asked her. Juliet had fallen behind when she noticed him back here, hovering inside the main doors. Shawn was conversing quietly with Hazel and Gus, nearly ready to go out there.

"Since Thursday night?" Juliet answered.

"Why does that sound like a question?"

" _I've_ known since Thursday night."

"So you don't know if he's really been thinking about something like this for a while?"

She shrugged. "I can't say for sure...but I believe him. It's Shawn, Carlton. He's impulsive, but...this is different."

They watched the doors open. They watched Shawn walk out with Gus and Henry; watched the reporters swarm him. Juliet wanted to be out there with him but they'd agreed the initial announcement should remain separate from the department. They'd go out there in the end, to get him and Gus to car and support him as friends, but this was something he had to do on his own.

The news feed on a television in a corner of the hospital lobby switched over to the footage coming from outside. Carlton gave the television a glance before he focused again on what he could see through the glass doors.

"If he would do _this_ for you, I don't suppose I can argue with you marrying him," he said.

"It wasn't just for me."

Carlton snorted, though not unkindly. "Of course it was, O'Hara. He may have spared a thought for Guster and me, but he wouldn't be out there right now if he didn't want to make you happy."

Juliet shook her head and smiled. "I'm not saying I _disagree_ with you, Carlton...I'm just saying don't sell yourself short. He could have procrastinated on this for years. He could have drawn the reporters off back at the house some other way. You _know_ he could have. He could have done anything."

Now he really looked at her. "What are you getting at?"

She fidgeted with her hair and let out a breath, debating how much she should say. "Carlton...he did this _now_ because of what happened. Not just because of the media interest. Not just because it was the best time and he still wants to be able to make money and...stop relying so much on other people. Stop lying. All of that's true, and I love him for it. You're not wrong…"

"O'Hara?"

"He wouldn't stop talking about how much better it would be for _you_ , Carlton. How the last thing you need right now is more stress and you've always wanted the ridiculous charades to stop anyway. How if he did this he could still work with us but you'd be able to run the department the way you really want to. It was _really_ important to him."

He made a face. "You're just saying that…"

"I'm not! Look, I _know_ you two may never really talk about it—or anything, really—and I guess that's okay, but...I don't know. I guess I thought you needed to know. Especially right now."

Carlton needed to know the family that had formed around him wasn't there because of some pack effect. He needed to know she wasn't the only one who cared about him as much as she did. Because sometimes, and more often this week than ever, it seemed maybe he got it. But other times it seemed he didn't quite understand.

It might make a difference and it might not, but at least he didn't dismiss it again.

* * *

When they made it back to the house the only extra vehicles left on the street belonged to Lauren Lassiter, Karen Vick, and Lassie's mother. There was another burst of chatter about the way the press announcement had gone, because once inside any mention of Shawn's powers having never been real in the first place would have to be canned until they they left.

"They were eating it up!" Shawn said again. "This is gonna be great. Trust me, Lassie. You'll look even better when Psych gets back out there. You'll be the chief who gave us a chance to prove ourselves even without my powers. The press'll love that too."

"You're keeping your name?" Jules asked.

"That's still up in the air...we're leaning toward yes. We have a legacy to maintain! We'll just have to take the 'psychic' bit out of the private detective agency tagline."

"I haven't agreed to the name thing," Gus protested.

Lassie huffed. "Just don't think you're getting any special treatment. You'll have to go through the same screening process and follow the same procedures as any other consultants."

"Hasn't that always been the case?" Shawn asked innocently.

"I'm reiterating. I'm the chief. I'll entitled to do that."

Jules grinned a little as they got out of the car, and she leaned in close to Shawn. "The more things change…" she whispered.

But it was fine. It was good. Things weren't right without Lassie being Lassie.

Inside, though, Lassie hung back in the entryway while the others filtered off to the kitchen looking for Lauren and her mother and Karen.

"Spencer, wait…" he said.

Jules let Shawn go to follow the others. She was still smiling, but now in a way that seemed maybe she knew something he didn't. And what was that about? But then she was gone, and he didn't have time to ask. He turned back to Lassiter.

"Yeah? What's up, Lassie?"

"Nothing, I just…" Lassie shifted uncomfortably. His hands went to his hips for a moment and then his arms fell again.

"Thank you," he said finally. "I...wanted to thank you."

Shawn blinked. "Oh. I um...I mean sure, yeah, no problem, man. Don't worry; it was mostly, you know, for Jules and all, but it's gonna help you out too, so great. Awesome. I have nothing but good feelings about that. I mean, come on, you're...some kind of family. Or something." He motioned widely, encompassing, theoretically, everyone in the house. "Whatever _we_ are, and—holy crap!"

He cut off and exclaimed because Lassie was hugging him. Lassie had initiated a hug. It was a willing Lassie-hug. Shawn returned it tentatively.

"Uh...dude? Lassie? You okay, man?"

"Spencer, for once in your life just shut the hell up."


	17. Chapter 17

And part the second! Most of it will probably be a lot like this chapter, I think, a little less linear and the pieces a little less fleshed out, since it's mostly to give an idea of the way their lives went in my head and then leading up to what's going on in 2030, so only showing the parts of what's going on that are really important, but I think it still works. You'll have to let me know, lol.

Thank you for reading and reviewing! As always, I can't wait to hear from ya'll! :) You always make my day. And with the long weekend I'm hoping to get back to Of The Heart, too.

Part 2

 _Life is not made up of a single moment. It's made up of a gazillion moments. What defines us is the choice we make in the next moment, and the one after that. These moments, Shawn, they're happening...they're all around us, all the time._

 _\- Henry Spencer, "Murder?...Anyone?...Anyone?...Bueller?" (3x02)_

 _Don't take pictures of buildings. Take pictures of moments. That's what matters._

 _\- Shawn Spencer, "One, Maybe Two, Ways Out" (5x09)_

Chapter 17

July 2030

Juliet was on her feet again. Carlton hovered by the bathroom door while she checked her face and followed her out into the master bedroom.

The bed was made, and looked like it had been for a while. Carlton winced.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back out there?" he asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "You said something about Woody hogging the mints?"

"That was twenty minutes ago now; we're probably too late."

"Probably," Juliet agreed.

This time they did laugh, just a little.

When it stopped Carlton swallowed. "Juliet...I'm sorry. Again. About this week. I shouldn't have—"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Don't. Really. It doesn't matter anymore. You've done...everything. We're fine."

* * *

June 2014

"Jules, what are you doing? You're gonna wear a rut in the carpet."

Shawn had come back from the shower to find Jules pacing the small space by the bed in the tiny guest room.

"We have to get married in six months," she said urgently, once he'd closed the door. "Maybe five."

He blinked at her. "Ok? What's with the number? Not that there's anything wrong with numbers. Numbers can be good."

She started waving her hands as she tried to illustrate what she meant. "I just mean...our anniversary needs to be as far away in the year as it can get from...all of this. And Carlton's anniversary. I don't want to be talking about ours anywhere near his and bringing things up and-and so if we don't do it in five or six months we'd have to wait a year and a half."

"No, we wouldn't. Sweetheart, he's Lassie. He'll be fine with it whatever we do. We can wait longer if you want, have more time to plan, or…you know, do it sooner. If Lassie can plan in a day, we can. I'd marry you tomorrow if you wanted. It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!"

"Jules…" Shawn wrapped his arms around her from behind, maybe just to get her to stop moving. He kissed her skin behind her ear and she finally began to relax into him. "Ok. That's fine. Whatever you want."

" _Thank_ you," she sighed.

They were quiet for a while before Shawn spoke up again. "You were thinking about it because he's coming back to work tomorrow, huh?"

"Maybe…" She paused. "He also asked me yesterday when we were planning on getting out of his house."

"Well that's just rude."

Jules laughed once and tugged him down into the bed. "He was mostly kidding. Then he said we could stay as long as we needed to." She made that face she made when she wasn't sure what she thought about something. "Actually, I think he was kind of _asking_ us to."

"Yeah, I kind of may have let slip it was kind of expensive for you to get out of that lease in San Francisco…"

"Shawn!"

He held up his hands in surrender. "What? I'm supposed to be turning over a new leaf! I'm supposed to help with the providing and all that grown up stuff and other related things. It'll take a few months to get back to where we were as far as cases and clients and all, so I've got to do my part some other way. You can't tell me going rent-free a while longer won't help."

They hadn't even had a case yet. Now that Lassiter was coming back to work he could decide how he wanted to do that-what sort of fluff cases he wanted to start Psych out on, so they could rebuild their crime-solving reputation. It would probably include quite a bit of the embarrassing and the boring, and Lassie was probably going to love it.

Shawn planned to put up epic old-days levels of protest and tomfoolery-he had an image, after all-but in all honesty it would probably be nice seeing Lassie enjoy himself after everything he'd been through in the last month or two.

"Tell me you didn't," Jules said

Shawn shrugged. "Not... _deliberately_. I didn't _plan_ it. He was already sort of going in the same direction he was with you; I think he was trying to find out how long we _would_ stay. I know my body language, Jules. When I mentioned the San Francisco thing he was relieved. He wanted an excuse to tell us to stay."

Jules shook her head, confused. "Coming back here was _my_ decision... _ours_...it shouldn't be up to him to helps us make it work."

Shawn leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Come on, Jules; you know he likes having you here. With us in the house he's got his best friend and a built-in babysitter right down the hall...seeing as I'll have a lot of time for a while until we have more cases again."

She planted her face in a pillow for a moment. "God. Now we _have_ to get married in a few months so we have an excuse to get out of here and stop bothering him." She rolled over to stare at the ceiling, and Shawn watched her think for a moment. "Why would he want an excuse? You two especially are going to start driving each other _crazy_ again before long; how does he think us being in this house for any extended period of time is a good idea?"

He could tell her, but she'd get it in a minute. Shawn didn't really want to say it out loud. It hit way too close to the ouch-felt-that part of his chest.

"Oh my god," she whispered finally. "I'm an idiot."

Shawn layed down beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and they stared at the ceiling together. He twined his fingers with hers between them. "You're not an idiot," he said.

"He doesn't want to be alone here with Lily yet. How could I not see that?"

"Jules...you're a lot better at dealing with the hard stuff than me but I guess everybody gets to the want-to-pretend-everything's-fine-again part no matter how good they are at it. Maybe you hit it."

"Maybe…"

"That's ok, you know. Isn't it? I mean, obviously I'm no expert."

She cleared her throat. "No, you're right. It's fine. I just...I don't know."

Shawn kissed her shoulder and mumbled into it. "He's your best friend. I get that. I've got one of those, too."

"If I could just make all of it go away…"

"Yeah." He paused. "But hey! We'll be Full House for a while. We'll get totally awesome pop culture bragging rights later. Which one of us do you think is Uncle Jesse, and which one is Joey?"

"Oh my god. We are not having this conversation." She was trying so hard to be serious, but she smiled a little.

Shawn played along. "Fair enough, but you have to admit it'll be cool having storage unit parties with Gus until we all have our own places."

"That's a thing?"

"If it's not, we'll _make_ it a thing. Or we'll bring it back. We'll play that by ear."

* * *

October 2015

"So much for not waiting a year and a half," Juliet smirked quietly.

"What?" Karen asked.

Her former boss stood behind her in the mirror as they gave her wedding dress one last good once-over.

"Nothing." But Karen caught her eyes in the mirror and gave her an understanding smile.

"Shawn loves you," she said. "He's come a long way from the irresponsible psychic Carlton dragged into the station for questioning."

Juliet smiled back. She almost laughed. "It's not that. It's just nothing seems to go the way we plan."

"What was the hold up?"

"It's Shawn; there was a laundry list. The biggest things were shouldn't-we-wait-until-Psych-is-back-on-its-feet and then there was we-can't-get-married-until-we-find-the-perfect-place-to-rent and through all of that there was we-can't-leave-yet-Lassie-needs-us."

Karen seemed to note her distinct lack of frustration. "But you're okay?"

Juliet turned away from the mirror and she nodded, and she was still smiling because she couldn't help it. Her heart was fluttering, but she knew they would be fine.

"Just because he grows so much slower than a lot of people doesn't mean he doesn't. If he didn't we wouldn't be here right now, and I wouldn't be sure he's not going to bolt before I get to the end of the aisle. But I _am_ sure. And that's what matters." She let out a breath. "It just took me a long time to figure that out."

Karen was the only one here with her. Marlowe would be back here now if she were still alive, and Juliet tried not to think about that part. Or about the rest of it, really. Her mother was already seated; she'd been back here crying and wringing her hands and apologizing over and over that they hadn't been able to find Ewan. Upset her brother wasn't here. And Juliet couldn't take it anymore. She asked Lloyd to take her to their seats.

Her dad wasn't here, either. He, at least, had sent a message he planned to be. She'd believed him. But 'something came up.' He claimed he would be here in a few weeks to visit and wish them well and bring gifts, and she hoped that was true. That he would at least show up. It would probably be months rather than weeks.

Juliet had long since stopped wasting energy being upset. She could hope, and she always would, and she and Shawn would welcome him when he came. It was better than hating him the way she had before Shawn stepped in years ago to help them repair the relationship to what extent they could. She would never be able to thank Shawn enough for that.

And it was all right. No Dad, no Ewan, and she wasn't close enough to Lloyd, but she still had someone to give her away.

That was what best friends were for.

Not that it wasn't a bit of a fight.

"I am not giving you away to _Spencer_!" Carlton had said more than once.

"I'm only asking in case my dad doesn't show up! You know that could happen."

"Which is exactly why I'm not agreeing to it; it's far too likely I'd actually be needed."

Juliet shook her head at him and smiled. His office doors were closed and she knew she had him. " _You_ said you couldn't argue with me marrying Shawn anymore after he stopped the psychic shtick."

"Just because I'm not arguing doesn't mean I want to put my unequivocal _sanction_ on it, either! Besides, it's just the principle of the thing. Me ten years ago would feel betrayed."

She'd raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?" she deadpanned.

He tried again. "Look, maybe I'd have thought about it last year, but he's been stalling for _months_ now, O'Hara. That doesn't make me inclined to be as happy about this anymore."

She placed her hands firmly on his desk and leaned over the edge. "Carlton, no one is perfect. We're here _now_ , and that's what matters."

He huffed. "Why do you need someone to do it, anyway? It's been perfectly acceptable for quite a while now for a woman to walk down the aisle on her own. It's the twenty-first century for god's sake."

"Maybe I'm just old-fashioned like that. Is there something wrong with that?"

" _No_ , I just…"

He trailed off, and Juliet smiled a little.

"We'll be _fine_ , Carlton. I promise. Please do this for me?"

Carlton looked at her for a long moment. "Only if your father doesn't show, right?"

"Right."

Now there was a knock on the door, and she knew it was him. They only had a few minutes. Karen gave Juliet's shoulders a squeeze before she let him in and slipped out to line up. Not that there was much of a lineup. It was the three of them and Lily, who'd be toddling down the aisle ahead of them with a basket of silk flower petals that would probably be dumped all at once in one spot or another.

But it didn't matter. This was happening, and it was almost time.

"Carlton, your jaw is on the floor."

"Sorry."

He cleared his throat and shut the door behind him, and it was just the two of them. For a moment it was almost as awkward as the day they met. After the chief introduced them and she left, to let them get acquainted. The office that was Carlton's now had stretched into silence, and then he made that noise and went on brusquely, just the way he did now.

"Well, let's get this over with," he said. "Spencer had better not screw this up."

Juliet laughed and took his hands. "Hey, look on the bright side: we'll finally be out of your way." She looked up into his eyes and it was hard to miss the trepidation there. "You okay?"

For once he didn't dodge the question, but he didn't look straight at her either. "I...suppose I'm going to miss having you around."

"Only took you a year and a half to admit it."

" _Just_ you, by the way," he stressed.

She nodded sagely. "Of course. I'm surprised you and Shawn didn't kill each other."

"Well," he hedged. "It wasn't _that_ bad…"

"Ha! So you admit that too."

"Shut up, O'Hara," he groused.

Juliet grinned. "You might want to start getting used to calling me 'Juliet.' You're gonna have to to call at least one of us by our first name, and I don't think it'll be Shawn."

"No," Carlton agreed testily. She gave him a look. "What? Give me some time!"

"You've had a year and a half you knew this was coming!"

"Well no one's perfect," he said. Juliet opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Yes; I admit that too," he sighed.

Juliet smiled, and something stuck in her throat. "Thanks."

"Don't tell Spencer I said that." He looked back at the door. "Do I really have to do this?"

She took his arm and squeezed a little. "Yes."

"Why, again?"

"Because you love me," she said.

Carlton didn't argue.

* * *

April 10, 2016

Of all the nights for someone to knock on his door, this was the last one Carlton would have chosen. Henry had Lily until late tomorrow, he had plenty of scotch, and maybe the whole thing wasn't the best idea in the world but it had worked out just fine last year.

One night wasn't so much to ask, was it?

"No," Henry had told him, a year ago. "But let it _be_ just be the one. If you do this tonight you can't do it again next month, when it's been a year since Marlowe died. This is better; it's your anniversary, and there are good things to remember, too. Let the other day just go by; can you do that?"

It took several long moments before he could admit he didn't know.

"That's what the rest of us are here for."

So they helped him. Last April 10th, Henry kept Lily and Spencer and O'Hara had gone away somewhere, made themselves scarce. A month later, instead of everyone being gone everyone was there. They didn't leave him alone for a moment. Even Lulu came for the weekend.

So they all knew what tonight was. It was the reason Shawn was the last person he expected to find on his porch at nine thirty.

"What do you want, Spencer?"

Maybe it was the moderate amount of alcohol already in his system, but it took a moment to realize how uncomfortable Spencer looked standing there, shifting back and forth on his feet. Or the way his hands were shoved in his jacket pockets and his eyes were rimmed with pink.

"Sorry, Lassie, I-I um...look, I know this isn't the best time. If you let me in I won't stay long, I swear, I just...I needed to talk to somebody. I just found out, worst timing ever, you know?" He sniffed once and swiped at his nose and tried to smile-to laugh whatever it was off the way he did. It wasn't working.

"What are you talking about?"

Spencer bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet for a few seconds and grimaced, maybe trying to recompose himself. It failed for a moment, and when he managed to speak it came tumbling out uneven.

"Abigail's dead. I-it was a few days ago. One of her friends just now thought to call me. She uh….she'd gone back to Uganda to teach, you know? And they had another outbreak over there and her parents wanted her to come home but she wouldn't leave the kids, and...she's dead, Lassie. She's gone."

Oh god. "Abigail Lytar?"

"Yeah," Spencer choked quietly.

Carlton let out a breath and opened the door more widely, nodding inside. "Get in here."

Spencer shuffled in silently and the door closed, and they were left in the dim entryway.

"Is Guster out of town?"

"No," Spencer said. "And anything else I'd be over there, and Gus could help, and I wouldn't bother you. Especially not now. It's just this is...different."

Carlton sighed. "Spencer...your dad has Lily but I'm sure he'd still—"

"I wanted to talk to _you_ , ok?"

He'd been afraid of that.

"I'm sorry; maybe that's stupid," Spencer said. "I'm not saying this is even a little bit the same thing as...anything. I mean we both moved on, and I have Jules, but it doesn't matter. I still _cared_ about her, Lassie, ok? I've cared about her since high school! And she's dead now. What am I supposed to _do_ with that?"

His voice broke again at the end, and how could Carlton turn him away?

"Does Juliet know?"

"Yeah…"

"And she knows you're here?"

"Yeah…"

Carlton sighed. "Go on in the living room; I'll get another glass."

Spencer cleared his throat loudly and nodded a little. "Thanks, man."

When he made it back to the living room Spencer had buried himself in one corner of the couch. Carlton handed him the drink and lowered himself into his chair nearby.

There was silence for a while, and ice clinking.

"She broke up with me after the Yin thing," Spencer said eventually.

"I remember."

"Yeah...she said she wanted to do things with her life...and she couldn't do them if she dead. I wasn't worth dying for." Spencer stared down into his drink. "And I mean, I get that. I respected that. Maybe I should just be glad she found something that _was_ worth it. That she got to do something that important. "

"Seems reasonable."

Spencer blinked up at him. "You're a lot of help."

"What do you want me to tell you, Spencer? You _know_ I'm no good at this. And this is probably the worst day you could have come in here in with this anyway." It came out much more biting than he meant for it to. Spencer shrank back in the couch cushions and Carlton made a face. "Sorry."

"No, you're right." Spencer sniffed and got to his feet. "I shouldn't have—"

"Damnit, Shawn, sit down!"

He did, but probably only out of surprise.

"Lassie, you don't have to talk about this. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking…"

"Your wife wouldn't have let you out the door if she didn't think it might do both of us some good."

Spencer blinked at him. "Oh. Well, when you put it that way…"

* * *

When Shawn woke up his head was pounding, and it took a while to realize he was sprawled over Lassie's couch and not at home in bed.

"Ow...crap," he mumbled.

He found Lassiter in the kitchen, standing by the counter looking just as disheveled as he felt and staring at the coffee pot, waiting for it finish percolating.

"Dude...I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to stay all night."

Lassie just shrugged without even glancing back, and that was when Shawn started patting himself down for his phone.

"Crap! Jules—"

"I called her last night; she knows you're still here."

Shawn snorted once. "Then she probably also knows we were both hammered."

"She let you come; she was probably expecting that."

"Fair point…"

Shawn groaned and dropped into a chair at the table, and there was a certain amount of weird deja vu involved-seeing as he and Jules had lived here until six months ago and this was what quite a few weekends had looked like, minus the alcohol.

Strange how they'd gotten through eighteen months of that and he and Lassiter still related to each other pretty much the same way.

But again, it was fine. Good, even. Lassie was Lassie and Shawn was Shawn and that was the way things were. There was more there than there used to be, before the whole Salamatchia thing. Before they lost Marlowe. But it didn't affect the every day for them, and they were both just fine with that. Status quo, and all. Maybe it had shifted a _bit_ -it had to-but the essentials were all the same.

Coffee. He could really use coffee. When it was done he'd have to get back up.

Maybe Shawn drifted off on the table top. The next thing he knew there was a mug of said coffee under his nose, and Lassie was sitting down across from him with one of his own. There was cereal and milk and bowls with spoons on the table. All of the cereal was of the decidedly-marketed-to-little-kids variety.

Which, of course, meant they were some of Shawn's favorites.

"Mm...thanks, Lassie."

He dragged a bowl and a box of cereal in front of him, and Lassiter just shrugged again. Shawn paused and made a face, watching him for a moment. "Seriously, man, I'm sorry I ruined your uh…"

He expected to be cut off. He didn't expect Lassie to be nearly laughing about it. It was a tired sound, but it was definitely closer to the amused range than the upset scale. "It's really fine, Spencer. I'm fine. Juliet knows what she's doing." He finished pouring milk into his bowl and pushed the milk in Shawn's direction. "Eat your damn cereal. You're more stubborn than my two year old."

Now Shawn smirked. "Now _that_ has always been the case."

"I won't argue with that."

They ate in amiable silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, so...week wasn't all depressing," Shawn offered up. "Jules is pregnant."

Watching Lassie choke on his cereal over that one was the most fun he'd had in a while.

* * *

July 2030

Juliet ventured back out into the house and the people there, and Carlton stayed at her side. She got a quite a few concerned glances, but no one asked where she'd been. If they looked like they might want to ask, the look quickly dissipated. Juliet didn't look up to see if that might have something to do with Carlton, but she suspected it did.

Everyone was still here. Everyone who really mattered, anyway. None of them had left her, despite her disappearance.

"Mom!"

A figure jumped up from a chair in the corner of the living room, and of course she'd been with Henry.

"Abi…" Juliet opened her arms and her daughter rushed into them. "I'm sorry I was gone."

"It's ok." When Abigail let go she looked up at her Uncle Carlton. "Have you seen Lily? I can't find her, either."


	18. Chapter 18

Hey ya'll! Sorry I've been slow. There's a lot going on at work and I got sick earlier this week. Meh.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It kinda turned into the Shawn and Lassie chapter, mostly, but oh well. And getting closer to everything converging, which will probably be in the next chapter. So thanks for reading, and I can't wait to hear from ya'll!

Chapter 18

February 2030

"Dude," Shawn said. "Come on; it's not just Lily turning sixteen. You've been weird for weeks. What's up?"

Gus was out somewhere with Lauren, so it was just the two of them at the pub and they had alcohol and it seemed like a good time to ask.

Lassiter shrugged, staring into his drink.

"Lassie. Seriously."

He got a glare from beneath angry eyebrows for his trouble, but finally Lassie sighed and relented. "Adrian's being released from prison next month," he said, grimacing.

Shawn's eyebrows went up. "Adrian _Viccellio_? Marlowe's brother? Dude who killed that one guy and tried to steal your blood?"

"Yeah."

"Ah…" And suddenly Shawn was having horribly awful deja vu for some reason.

"I've been fighting it for months, but there's nothing to be done."

Shawn blinked. "But isn't he all...rehabilitated, or whatever? It'll be fine, right? You said he played nice when you let Lily meet him last year…"

"There was a glass wall between, them, Spencer," Lassiter snapped. "This is different. He'll be a free man, and I am not comfortable with that in the least. I don't want him anywhere near her, but...she wants to talk to him. It was easier to agree when I knew he couldn't get to her. What am I supposed to do now?"

"If he's not violent and there's no _actual_ reason to be concerned I think you play it safe and suck it up, man. What, Lily wants to know more about her mom?"

Lassie nodded and let out a breath. His eyes wandered. "She wants to know what Marlowe was like when she was younger—where she came from. And I can't give Lily that. I only know so much myself. Just what Marlowe told me. What we had time to—" He broke off and cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Shawn sighed. "I get it. But he is ok now, right?"

"He seems to be," Lassiter agreed reluctantly. "But I still don't like it."

"Okay, well, that's why you tell the rest of us." Lassie shrugged, and Shawn did the math. "It hasn't been long enough. Early parole for good behavior or something?"

"Yeah."

"Then it should be fine. And _why_ didn't you say something earlier? You know, sometimes you still really suck at this being-part-of-an-extended-family thing."

Lassiter smirked a little. "That's what we are?"

"Yes! For like ever! Keep up, man!" But Shawn knew Lassiter was just pulling his leg.

"Great. Is that enough of an excuse to stop your pseudo-brother from dating my sister?"

"You're pushing it, Lassie."

Lassiter shrugged. "You think Guster and Lulu are serious this time?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "They've been 'serious' every other time they've been together for a dozen years now; your guess has been seriously as good as mine for like ten of those."

* * *

April 11, 2016

"Awesome, when Jules tells you at work act _exactly_ that surprised; she'll love it. Maybe just add a little more of a positive-happy spin to the choking sounds," Spencer laughed.

Carlton coughed and took a gulp or two of coffee. He took a breath after and shook his head. "I'm not _un_ happy, Spencer, god, what do you take me for? You caught me off-guard."

"Which I live to do, so points for me."

Carlton glared at him for a brief moment. "Maybe it won't be a _complete_ travesty. The kid'll be half Juliet's, after all."

"Well, thank you for that dubious vote of confidence."

"No problem." Carlton tried to hold the angry eyebrows, but he failed. The corners of his mouth tugged themselves up, definitely not so much because Spencer was going to be a father, but because Juliet was going to be a mother.

There wasn't much to tell yet, but Spencer remained overly excitable for a while. "It'll be great, man! Lily'll have someone to play with and we'll get to, you know, do dad things. Compare notes. Play dates and dance classes. Bro dads. It'll be sweet."

"I would rather babysit for McNab."

The jab didn't roll off like it usually did. Shawn's perpetual enthusiasm faltered and his smile slipped. "Come on, Lassie, don't be like that."

He was actually hurt, Carlton realized. That wasn't what he'd intended. He studied Spencer for a moment, who wasn't really looking at him anymore. It took a moment for it to make sense, and he winced.

"You were hoping Guster would have kids before you," Carlton said gently. "You wanted to do this with him."

Shawn shrugged and he didn't look up. He was staring intently at his cereal. "Used to seem pretty likely." And what he wasn't saying was _Gus is my best friend; of COURSE I did_.

Carlton hiked an eyebrow and sighed. "Fine, but let me just make it clear _now_ that if your offspring is male he won't be allowed anywhere within a five-mile radius of my daughter once they're both teenagers."

Spencer's smile returned. "That sounds fair."

* * *

July 4, 2016

Lassie seemed immediately suspicious of the box Jules was carrying as Shawn opened the gate in the fence for her, particularly when it _moved_.

"I can carry that," Shawn had said when they pulled up to the house.

"I've got it," she'd answered happily.

Lassie cut them off just inside the yard. "What the hell is that?" he questioned warily.

Shawn held up a finger. "Okay, first off let me say this was mostly my idea originally, but I said we should wait until _Christmas_ , or maybe Lily's next birthday…"

"But I said I couldn't wait," Jules cut in excitedly. She set the red, white, and blue wrapped box on the ground and she was practically bouncing on her toes. "And with you hosting everybody today and it's a holiday anyway and it seemed like the perfect excuse."

Lassie just blinked at her, and behind him Gus and Lauren and Henry and Woody were all closing in curiously. Lily ran into her father's leg and watched the box move and pointed.

"What's dat?" she asked.

"Hold on, sweetie; dad's probably going to have to murder your Aunt Juliet and Uncle Shawn. Spencer, _what did you do_?"

Jules was the one to answer. "Well it'll still be a couple of years until our baby's born and old enough to really play with Lily, sooo…"

"Oh no," Lassiter said.

She bent down and whipped the top off the box. "Happy Fourth!"

Shawn grinned and reached in to pick up the basset hound puppy and hold him out. "Lassie, meet Lassie Junior."

"Doggie!" Lily shouted happily.

Lassie looked from the dog to his daughter and back up again, making a face.

"Spencer! Put that away before she gets attached! We don't need a _dog_ , and if we had one I'd want a _man's_ dog, like a Shepherd or something. You know, the kind of dog whose silhouette is used on beware-of-dog _signs_. I'd want a dog that could protect my daughter! Not this sad-sack that's gonna step on its own ears."

Jules shrugged. "Well, don't think of him as a dog; think of him as Lily's brother."

"I don't think so," Lassie deadpanned.

"Doggie!" Lily cried again.

She was reaching up, so Shawn crouched down with the puppy. "Lily, meet your brother," he said.

"Spencer!" Lassie started to reach down to scoop up his daughter, but she'd already wrapped her arms around the puppy's neck and it was licking her face. She was laughing, and it was too cute, and who could put a stop to _that_?

"Great," Lassiter groaned.

Shawn let go of the puppy, and it followed Lily off into the yard. They were taking turns knocking each other over by accident. Jules _awww'ed_ and took off after them with her phone, and Lassie glared at Shawn one more time.

"What? She went all pregnancy brain on me, man!"

"It was still your idea."

Shawn grinned. "Yeah, and I still think it's _awesome_. You can't tell me that's not cute. They'll grow up together. It will be _adorable_."

A shriek of laughter from the yard made Lassie look back, and Shawn saw him smile.

* * *

August 2016

"Lassie!" Shawn called. The chief was poised in his office doorway, hands on his hips as he surveyed his territory, as per usual. "How's your dog?"

Lassiter shrugged as Shawn bounded up. "Given that he's taken to barking at anyone approaching the house and he prefers to sleep at the foot of Lily's bed, it seems our priorities align. We get along adequately."

"Sweet. So what's up? You rang?"

Lassie nodded and ushered him into the office. The doors closed behind them, and Shawn protested. "What about Jules?"

"This isn't about a case."

"Ah…what's it about, then?"

Lassiter perched on the front edge of his desk. His arms were crossed and he had that look he got when he was about to broach a personal subject and wasn't quite comfortable with it.

"You," he said. He hesitated. "Spencer, how much serious thought have you actually given to the fact that you're about to have a child to provide for?"

"What? Plenty. I mean...yeah, plenty. Don't look at me like that. Why are you looking at me like that? We're fine."

"I didn't say you weren't. I've had Juliet's job, and I know what we pay Psych for cases. I'm talking about the rest of it. The future. Getting out of that apartment if you want to do that. Saving for college—especially if the two of you plan to have more children—"

He held up a hand when Shawn opened his mouth. "Wait. Just...let me finish, Spencer. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm not saying it wouldn't work out just fine the way you're going. You may be an idiot, but your wife isn't. All I'm saying is, you could do better."

Shawn sighed. "Better how, Lassie? Psych's been legit for a couple years now, and we're doing great! Well...okay. No worse than we were before, anyway. Whatever. Moving on."

"No. Not moving on. Yet," Lassiter said. He scrubbed a hand over his face and hesitated. "Listen...you took the detective exam again when you relaunched Psych, to...aid in restoring the public's faith in your abilities, or however you put it. Either way, I'm sure it was Juliet's idea."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that."

"The point _is_ , you made another perfect score. Damn you, by the way. But anyhow, you have the score and you have ten years of experience. The only other thing you'd need to work for this department legitimately is to make it all the way through the police academy. Has that occurred to you?"

Shawn's eyebrows went up. "If this is going where I can't exactly believe it's going, no, Lassie, that did _not_ occur to me." He counted off reasons on fingers. "Because a) I don't really do the whole _rules_ thing so well, and b) this is _your_ station and you'd never want me working here full time." He paused. "Hmm. I thought there'd be a c when I started that. I'll get back to you."

Lassie made a face. "Having you on my force sure as hell wouldn't be my first choice, but believe it or not I do have a conscience. I had to point it out. You having a steady income would be better for you and Juliet in the long run, and...you're good, Spencer," he admitted tersely. "If you'd ever consider a real career in police work I'd be stupid not to hire you."

Shawn shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Okay...thanks for the thought, I guess?"

"Don't mention it. I mean, really. Don't. To anyone."

"Yeah," Shawn laughed. He turned to go, but something made him stop and look back. "I mean, it just wouldn't work. Besides, private investigators make _so_ much more money!"

"Theoretically they can," Lassiter deadpanned. "When has that ever been true for you?"

"Touché. But what about Gus? He has his whole real job and everything, but he loves doing this. We're partners. If I worked here I couldn't work with Gus. Or Jules."

"As a real part of the department you couldn't work with your spouse, no," Lassie agreed. "And you'd have to have a partner, but you could still request Guster as a consultant. Though...Guster is reasonably intelligent himself, and he has just as much experience as you do and I daresay more common sense. I think if he took the exam he'd pass just fine."

Shawn blinked. "Wait, seriously? You'd hire both of us?"

"You make an effective team. God knows how, but you do." Lassiter pointed a threatening finger. "And I repeat: none of this leaves this room. Ever."

For about half a second Shawn let himself think about that. Then he grinned and shook his head. "Thanks, Lassie, but we're fine. It'd be a disaster, and you know it."

Lassiter pushed off from his desk and cleared his throat. "Right. Well...you know where to find me. Or not."

* * *

"I thought you said Carlton told you not to tell anyone."

"Well, you're just my other half, Jules. That doesn't count," Shawn answered.

She laughed and snuggled up under his arm. "It's fine; he can't really hide anything from me anymore anyway. I knew that had to be what he wanted to talk to you about. I think he's been working up the resolve to say something for months."

"There. See? That is why it should definitely not happen. Lassie would end up hating it."

Jules scoffed quietly. "He just wants you think he would."

"He did a good job. His _life_ does a good job."

"It wouldn't be so different, you know."

"But it _would_!" Shawn protested.

They both fell silent for a while.

"Shawn," Jules said gently.

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to do it. I'm not even saying it's necessarily what I want. I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you're doing what you should be doing. It's just an idea; we'll be fine either way."

Shawn made a face at the ceiling. "Kid has to go to college, though."

Jules kissed his temple. "Whatever you do, we'll make it work. Whatever it takes."

"I love you like, ridiculous amounts. You know that, right?"

* * *

November 2016

It was getting late and Lily was pulling at his leg. They were on the way out from stopping by to check in on Juliet and baby, but Spencer gave chase and caught them before they could hit the elevator.

"Lassie! Hold on!"

Carlton turned back, eyebrows up.

Moments ago they'd been back in that room. Shawn had been holding his daughter and Juliet couldn't stop smiling and Spencer couldn't tear his eyes from the two of them. His eyes were wide now, and the corners of his mouth kept drifting up seemingly of their own accord, and he looked like his mind was wondering, and now that he was here Spencer didn't seem to remember why he'd followed.

"Shawn?" Carlton asked. That got his attention.

Spencer shook his head, maybe to clear it, but it didn't seem to work very well. He just grinned. "Lassie...it's...I-I mean it's…"

Lily pulled at the leg of his pants again, and Carlton scooped her up and smiled. "I know."

Spencer swallowed. He glanced back in the direction of the room for a moment. "So...you said something about a job?"

Carlton blinked. "What?"

Spencer was already shaking his head. "No. Nevermind. Haven't even talked to Gus. We'd have to...decide that together, and...stuff. Yeah. Nevermind." He turned to go and then turned back briefly. "But it's an open offer, right?"

* * *

June 2020

"We gave in, Shawn," Gus said.

"We did not give in! It's a new adventure!" That's what he was telling himself, anyway.

"We gave in."

Shawn snorted. "Which is exactly why you were saying 'this is so cool' every five minutes the entire time we were at the police academy."

Gus made a smacking sound. "It _was_ cool! You were the one with the attitude and the inability to keep up with anything the first time we tried."

"That was, like, ages ago, Gus. Can we let it go?"

Shawn sat back in his chair. At his desk. At the SBPD. Right across from his best friend's desk. While said best friend smirked at him across the tops of said desks.

"Dude, this was the original dream," he said. "Before Psych. Before we were teenagers. Before we got attitudes." It was more than worth mentioning, he thought.

"Before _you_ got an attitude, Shawn."

"That's fair."

Day one, and of course Lassie and Jules were standing in the chief's office doorway, just staring at them. Because they could. Because this was still kind of crazy and Shawn couldn't blame them.

" _What?_ " Shawn called anyway.

They looked at each other and what they said was loud enough for Shawn and Gus to hear, but that was undoubtedly their plan anyway.

"I don't know, Juliet, what do you think? Give them a week?" Lassie smirked.

Jules shrugged. "I think things are about to get confusing around here; we've got two Detective Spencers."

"You could always divorce him."

"Nice try, Carlton."

* * *

February 2030

"Lassie."

"What?"

Spencer leaned over the small round table, grinning. "Dude, I just realized...this is totally the table you had a fight with."

Carlton would have needed to ask when-in-the-hell Shawn was talking about, if he hadn't already brought up that particular incident earlier in the day. "No, it isn't," he retorted. Not that he really knew.

"Yes it is!" Spencer pointed to the carpet at the base of Carlton's stool. "You were _on_ the floor. Right there. Coulda been yesterday."

"That was twenty-five years ago!" Carlton groused.

"Twenty-four."

" _Whatever_. How do you even _remember_ this stuff?"

"Serious skill. You're surprised anymore?"


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry it's been a while ya'll! We had a retreat this past weekend and no computers and we had a lot to do at work preparing for it before that, so anyway. But I'm back now! And moving forward with this one. And I will apologize again right now because before the end of this chapter we're starting to get into the I-needed-ice-cream-just-to-finish-writing-this part of the story, but anyway...

Please do let me know what ya think! Thanks so much for everything ya'll! I always enjoy hearing from you! Couldn't do this without you. :)

Chapter 19

July 4, 2030

Shawn was more than a little confused when Gus dragged him out of Lassie's back yard into the house. It had been a perfectly normal fourth of July until that moment.

"What? What's up, Gus?"

There was a long hesitation. "I'm going to ask Lauren to marry me."

"You're gonna _what_?"

Gus took a deep breath and started to repeat himself. "I'm going to ask Lauren—"

"I heard you, Gus."

Gus threw out his arms. "Then why'd you ask?"

"Because I needed to make sure you weren't taking yourself by surprise; why else?" Shawn shrugged at his best friend's glare. "What?"

"That's all you have to say?"

Shawn broke into a grin. "No, man, that's great! About ten years later than it probably should be, but, you know, whatever."

"We both had our careers, Shawn, and neither of us were ready for kids—we may never be ready for kids. Either way, there was no point to getting married before now; we were never in the same place for long enough for it to make sense."

"Gus, dude, I'm not worried about it now. Have you talked to Lassie?"

"Lauren is quite old enough to make her own decision, Shawn."

"Come on, son. You know you're too traditional not to talk to Lassie first. He's the next best thing since her dad isn't around."

Gus glared at him for another moment and then made a smacking sound. "I talked to him last week…" he admitted.

"Lassie's been sitting on this for a _week_?"

" _You're_ the one who would have trouble with something like that, Shawn. _Lassiter_ is a mature adult who is perfectly capable of keeping his mouth shut."

Shawn was practically bouncing on his toes. Gus let out a breath and pulled him farther into the living room and away from the festivities in the back yard.

"Shawn…" His tone grew more serious. Apologetic, even. What was that about? "You don't get it."

"I don't get what? This is great!"

Gus winced. "You haven't asked me how I plan to fix the different-places problem."

"Okay, how?"

"I'm going with her. I mean, I'm going to offer to go with her."

Shawn had to admit his heart kind of skipped a beat, now that he was really thinking about it, but it was okay. It would be okay. "To Los Angeles? That's like an hour and half, man. It's fine," he said.

He'd have to find a new partner. Damn. That would be a suckiest part. Crap.

But Gus wouldn't be far. It would be fine. It wasn't even as bad as San Francisco, and he almost did that once.

"Not Los Angeles. She's been offered a job in New York."

Shawn blinked. "What? But we're in California. _Everything's_ made in California. Or Vancouver."

"A lot of things are, yes. But some movies are made in New York."

The whole apology thing in Gus's face made a lot more sense now.

"Oh…"

Gus swallowed. "I won't do it if you're not okay with it."

"What? What…? No. No, are you kidding? Gus…" Shawn ignored the sudden pressure in his chest—focused on the part of his brain that was still in happy-holy-crap-this-is-happening mode. "Gus, come on. Dude. You deserve to be happy just as much as the rest of us. Of course you should do this!"

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Go! Get married! Move to New York and fight big city crime and make babies and have a famous wife! It'll be awesome."

Gus made a face. "I told you I don't know about the babies. _Or_ the big city crime. Santa Barbara's big enough."

"Then what are you gonna do out there?"

"I'm pretty much okay with the having-a-famous-wife part."

Shawn punched his arm. "You sly dog, you."

Gus rubbed his arm and looked up questioningly. "And you're okay?"

"Yeah! Everybody else is here, and it's not like we won't see you. There'll be holidays and...whatnot. Lauren is Lassie's sister; you'll be around."

"Right."

Shawn grinned and snatched Gus into a hug. "Come here, you."

It was the easiest way to hide his face for a moment, so Gus wouldn't see he was actually kind of not okay at all.

* * *

March 2021

"Spencer?"

"Hmm?" Shawn groaned and rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, but damn if moving didn't _hurt_. "What? Ow...I think?"

"You think what?" Lassiter's gruff voice asked from the blurry gloom. "You think you're awake?"

"I think I'm me."

There was a frustrated sound. "Would you open your eyes already?"

Oh. That would probably help. Shawn opened them all the way from the crack he'd been trying to see through. He blinked a few times and there was Lassie, hands on his hips all chief-like. Everything was a kind of hazy, but Shawn could see enough to tell he looked a little rumpled.

"Who are you?" Shawn asked innocently.

Lassiter scowled down at him. "That's not _funny_ , Spencer. You didn't even hit your head; you were shot."

"Again?"

"You did a better job of it this time; almost got yourself killed. Imbecile…"

Shawn frowned, taking in the hospital bed and the beeping monitors and the sharp ache somewhere around his chest. "Oh…"

"Yeah, _oh_. You have anything to say for yourself?" Lassiter demanded.

"Like father like son?"

Lassie scoffed and disappeared for a moment. Shawn heard his feet sliding against the tiles as he paced away for a moment. When he reappeared he was scrubbing a hand over his face and Shawn was finally awake enough to read the worry lines in his forehead and the downward turn of his mouth. The way his hands weren't quite steady.

Shawn swallowed. "Dude...I'm sorry. Right now I don't even remember what happened. Where's Jules?"

"She and Guster and McNab got a solid lead on the guy who took you down; they'll have him any time now."

His head popped up, and that hurt too. Probably not as much as it should have, he noticed. Yay for modern medicine. Everything spun a little. "You let Jules go out there when I was critical in here? She could do something stupid!"

" _No,_ " Lassiter cut in. "She was here until we knew you'd pull through. I made sure of that. I'm not an idiot, Spencer. Besides, it may have been bad, but it wasn't as close as with Henry. Thank god. You've been out less than a day."

Shawn let out a breath. "You still shouldn't have let her go."

"Do you think I could have stopped her?" Lassie asked tiredly.

No. Probably not. Shawn made a face, and suddenly he was just so tired again. "Where _is_ my dad?" he mumbled.

"He has the girls."

"So you got stuck in here? Shouldn't you be at the station?"

"I can do a lot of my job from here; anyone can call me if they need me."

"Sure…love you too, man."

Shawn's eyes were closing, but he heard Lassiter make another scoffing sound. At least it seemed more amused than worried or angry this time. "Shut up, Shawn."

Sleep. He wanted to sleep, but there was one more thing. Maybe it was the haze from the pain medication, but he had to get it out. "Wait...Lassie. Lassie…" His voice came out so quiet. He was drifting. Lassiter was wondering off. " _Carlton_."

Lassie turned back, eyebrows up. "What?"

"I….I got lucky, didn't I?" There was no answer, and Shawn took that as a yes. "Lassie...if I hadn't...if...someday I don't…"

Lassiter was already shaking his head, trying to turn away again. His hand was in his pocket going for his phone—probably because Jules had demanded he call when Shawn was awake. "Stop, Spencer. I am not having this conversation with you," he said roughly.

"Jules and Abi…"

"Stop it!"

" _Why_?" Shawn demanded. He took a deep breath, and he was awake again now. He couldn't lift his head or he'd be dizzy again, but he was awake. Lassie wasn't listening, and he needed to. He needed to listen before Shawn had all of his faculties back and he'd be right back to _never_ being able to bring this up at all.

"Dude...ow…" He winced and shifted, and Lassiter wasn't looking _at_ him but he wasn't turning away either. "Lassie, stuff...happens. If anybody knows that we do," he said gently.

Lassie braced himself on the edge of Shawn's bed, and he kind of moaned. "Don't you think that's _exactly_ what I've been thinking about the last eighteen hours?" he asked unsteadily.

"Kinda figured…" Shawn trailed. But maybe he hadn't thought it was quite this bad. "Lassie? You okay, man?"

"I'm not the one who got shot," Lassiter snapped back.

"No...but you're the one who had to go through some seriously sucky deja vu there for a while, I'm guessing." Shawn paused. "I'm sorry."

There was quiet for a long moment.

"Promise me you'll never do that to her," Lassiter said after another moment.

Leave, he meant. Leave Jules. And Abi. Get himself really killed.

"I would if I could, you know? But...we can't know that stuff."

Lassie was nodding again. He knew. They both knew.

And why was Shawn the one saying this stuff? This wasn't his thing. It was almost like he was watching the whole conversation rather than having it himself. Shawn decided to continue to blame the drugs.

"Okay...look, I'm sorry, that got...way too serious," he apologized.

Lassie took a breath and straightened. He shook his head absently as if to say it didn't matter. When he looked off he seemed to be thinking. Shawn waited, because he didn't know what else to do.

"Of course I would," Lassiter said finally. He was answering the original question, and he made a face. "Even if, god forbid, it went the other way…"

If anything happened to either of them, he'd be there. Shawn. Or Jules. Lassie was saying he'd look out for whoever was left, and Shawn knew he should have known that. He _had_ , really, but leave it to nearly dying to make a person need to hear certain things out loud.

Shawn swallowed. "Yeah...thanks, Lassie."

Lassiter cleared his throat and turned away, reaching for his phone again. "Get some rest, Spencer."

* * *

After Shawn came home from the hospital Henry was staying with him during the day, because Jules refused to let him be alone just yet. Henry continued to assure him he'd be back in the field soon enough.

"You're fifteen years younger than I was; you'll be fine."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Shawn insisted.

It was easier to poke fun than to remember the way his dad looked at him the first time he came to the hospital after he woke up.

"You spent so much time trying _not_ to be like me, and then you go and do this?" he'd said then. "What the _hell_ , Shawn?"

"Have you and Lassie been taking worry-management classes together?" Henry had just looked at him funny at that one.

Shawn laughed a little, remembering, and Jules shifted beside him in their bed. "Hmm?"

"Nothing," he said. Then he thought better. "Actually...I think we should make an offer on that house."

"What?" Jules asked. She propped up on an elbow and looked at him suspiciously. "I thought you said it'd be weird going back to the street where you grew up."

"Well it's not _technically_ on the street where I grew up; the address isn't the same as Lassie's."

"It's on the corner."

"Yeah, but we didn't _know_ anybody in that house. They were all reclusive or something. And _that's_ what's weird. Any house on that street I'd remember people who used to live in it and it'd be weird to me to live in any of them."

"That doesn't seem to bother Carlton," Jules smirked.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "It used to. Do you _remember_ how much he complained in the beginning? I wanted to smack him sometimes. Like, 'Lassie, seriously, you're the one who decided to buy it,' but whatever."

"Nobody can get property that close to the beach that cheap anymore. He'd have been stupid not to take that deal. Your dad just wanted to sell it; he even admitted he would have taken _less_ , didn't he?"

"Oh yeah. Lassie was real happy about that one…"

Jules nudged him. " _Any_ way, back to the point?"

"What point?"

"That house on the corner, Shawn."

"Yeah...I mean...well, _you_ like it, and Mom always used to point that one out...said it was pretty. So, points there." Shawn shrugged. "I don't know. I tackled the the whole regular-job thing finally; maybe it's time to take another step."

"Shawn," Jules said slowly, "I don't want to do something like this because you got shot and you're having deep thoughts."

"It's not that! Seriously, Jules, I was gonna say something before."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

He hesitated. "Well...you know, maybe the whole getting shot again thing shook some of those thoughts loose, or…"

"Uh huh," Jules said knowingly. But she wasn't angry. She was smirking at him, and he was okay with that.

Shawn smiled. "Come on, Jules. I'm serious. Besides, at this point most of the money we'd be making any down payments with would still be yours anyway. So I'm saying I know you want the girls to be close, and you like that house, and I don't have any problem with it. If you still want to, we should do it."

"Yeah…" Jules rolled over on her back again and stared at the ceiling, and when she did that he knew the conversation was about to take a turn.

"Jules?"

"I still like the house," she said. "It's great, and Abi would have Lily right down the road…"

"I hear a 'but.'" Shawn paused. "You wanna keep looking for something bigger? I mean I know it's only two bedrooms but it's got that extra den we could turn into a bedroom if—"

"No...no."

Shawn swallowed and found her hand between them. He squeezed gently. "You're sure?"

Jules closed her eyes and squeezed back. "It's time to let it go."

And there wasn't much more to say. They'd had the rest of that discussion so many times. "We don't have to," Shawn reminded her. "Not if you don't want to."

"We have Abi. And I'm almost forty."

"So? You're healthy as a horse, sweetheart. The same cannot be said for me at the moment, being all shot and everything."

She laughed quietly. She opened her eyes. "It's okay. Really." She curled up against him again and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you want to try for the house."

They were quiet for a while. It wasn't until later in the night when they were both nearing sleep that Jules said anything else about it.

It was something Shawn knew she'd thought before. Something he'd never been able to figure out how to address, without her saying it. But when she said it he knew his answer.

"You wanted all those kids..." she whispered.

"Jules, all I ever needed was you."

* * *

July 5, 2030

"Why can't I walk to Lily's house by myself? I'm thirteen," Abi said.

"Because I said so," Shawn said. He chose to be amused rather than horrified that that particular sentence had come out of his mouth, seeing as it certainly wasn't the first time. Besides, he wasn't doing it like his mother or Henry; he was doing it ironically.

"Then when can I?" Abi asked immediately.

"When you're fourteen."

"But you said that last year. I mean, you said when I was thirteen. You totally lied."

"I did not!" Shawn insisted. "I just misquoted myself. There's a difference."

"I'm not a little kid, you know. I'm _thirteen_."

"Exactly. You should stop it. What's wrong with five? Five was fun. You should try five again; it comes highly recommended."

" _Dad_ …" she smirked.

"What? Uncle Gus and I still revert at _least_ once a month. It keeps us sharp. Isn't that right, Gus?"

"You know that's right," Gus agreed with a grin.

Abi glanced over at Gus, who was trekking through back yards with them between the Spencer house and Lassie's...or the old Spencer house. Ha. It was kinda funny when he thought about it that way, Shawn decided.

"Why is Uncle Gus coming with us?" Abi deadpanned.

"We stole your invisible rope idea."

She rolled her eyes. "I was five!"

For two weeks after the move into the house here, when Abi was five and Lily was seven, the two of them had decided there was an invisible rope tying the two of them together. They could be no farther than a few feet from each other and they refused to be separated. Maybe it was excitement over the fact that they finally lived so close together and maybe it was something else, but for some reason Shawn and Jules and Lassie had gone along with it. Shawn still wasn't sure why.

Maybe they'd let it be because Lily had started to ask questions about her mother. Letting the girls get away with their stunt for a little while gave Lassie a break.

"Exactly," Shawn said now. "Five was great, right? It totally deserves a redo."

Invisible rope. It wasn't so far off. Shawn felt as if something in him might snap without Gus around. He knew it wouldn't—he knew he'd make it; he'd been able to try leaving sixteen years ago, after all, right?—but it still seemed like the best thing to do was to spend as much time together as they could until they couldn't. That was normal, wasn't it?

Abi was laughing. She didn't know what was going on. She ducked under Shawn's arm to hug him and he held her tight from the side as they walked. He smiled over her head at his best friend. It came out a little weak, but that was okay. Gus smiled back and Shawn knew he would be fine, because Gus would be fine.

Gus would be great. And it was about damn time for that.

* * *

He shouldn't have let Lily stay at home. Before he even got out of the car Carlton knew something was _wrong_.

"What are you doing?" she'd asked two hours ago. He stood in the living room with his keys, sure he was forgetting something.

"It's the day after a major holiday," he'd said. That was enough explanation.

Lily just laughed. "Okay. You have fun stocking up paper towels and grill seasoning."

"You don't want to come?"

"Abi's coming over later; not sure what time."

Carlton raised an eyebrow. "We just saw them yesterday."

Lily shrugged and aimed for the stairs. "She's my best friend, Dad; if we don't see each other as often as humanly possible we go into withdrawals."

"You're just like your uncles..." he muttered, once she'd disappeared around the corner.

"What?" She called from halfway up the stairs, and he shook his head.

"Nevermind! Keep the doors locked!" he called back.

Now he couldn't say why something felt off, but it did. The front door looked closed and locked, but he couldn't shake the feeling. The light was dimming into evening and the street was quiet. Maybe _too_ quiet. Many of the neighbors had yet to return from holiday trips, and that didn't help.

Carlton abandoned the groceries and pulled a gun from his glove box. When he made it to the porch he found the door still locked as he thought, but one of the front curtains was disturbed from the inside. Maybe that was what had made him wary. It was nothing.

But…

He flattened himself against the outside wall by the door and pulled out his phone to dial Lily's. The thing told him it was ringing aloud and he thought he could hear it inside, but she wasn't answering.

And he thought he heard something else.

Carlton couldn't get the front door unlocked fast enough. He did so quietly, and stopped dead inside.

The living room was wrecked.

His chest tightened and his stomach twisted into knots, but he resisted the urge to call out. If someone who shouldn't be was still in here they didn't need to know he'd returned if they didn't know already. It could put Lily in more danger.

Carlton's weapon came up and it was taking effort to force his breathing to even out, but in the end he didn't have to search every room.

A crash and a muffled scream brought him straight to the kitchen. Loud cursing followed, and he knew who was here.

"Adrian, let her go!"

The element of surprise was already lost. Carlton rounded the corner and Adrian Viccellio was looking right at him, one arm tight around Lily's neck and the other holding a gun to her head. Her wrists had been tied behind her back; her arms were pinned uselessly against him. A cloth was gagging her.

Carlton couldn't breathe for a moment. Adrian didn't answer.

"Let her go!" he managed again, when he could find air. "What the hell are you doing!"

Nothing, for long agonizing seconds, before the younger man ground out an answer. "You got my sister killed, Lassiter! I'm just giving you what you've got coming."

Four months. He'd played nice for four months, since he was released from prison. Four months of occasional meetings, hovering anxiously while Lily talked to her uncle. But nothing ever seemed wrong.

It had all been an act. Why hadn't Carlton seen that?

"Adrian…"

"Put the gun down!"

"Adrian—"

"Put the gun down or I'll kill her, I swear!"

Adrian's finger tightened over the trigger and Carlton threw his hands up. "Okay!" he gasped. "All right, all right! Don't…" He dropped his gun. He had no choice. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Lily still had a gun to her head, and the man holding it there wasn't answering the question.

"She was all I had!" Adrian growled. "She'd still be here if she'd never met you! Do you get that!"

"I seem to recall she _met_ me because you tried to force her to steal my blood."

"Shut up!"

The barrel of the gun pressed into Lily's temple and she whimpered, for the first time. She'd been so quiet until now. So trusting. Looking at Carlton like she knew he would save her.

He had his hands up, placating, but it wasn't doing any good.

 _Marlowe. Marlowe, help._

"Please," Carlton swallowed. He heard the desperation in his voice but his pride didn't matter now.

"'Please,' what? I should kill both of you. Her first."

"Adrian, Lily is all that's _left_ of Marlowe! She's your own flesh and blood! Why are you doing this!"

"Because this is all I've wanted to do for sixteen years, dammit! Make you pay!"

Carlton took an uneven breath. " _Me_. _Me_ , Adrian; don't hurt her. _Please_."

And that was when Lily started making noise again, shaking her head at him, but he couldn't think about that.

* * *

Something made Shawn look up before they got to Lassie's. They were coming up on the back kitchen door and something felt wrong.

They were still a back yard away, but he could see the crack in the door from here.

Lassie would never leave it like that.

Shawn's arm shot out and Abi ran into it. Gus stopped and Shawn shushed them both.

They'd get Abi back home and call the station and then Lassiter. He and Lily were probably out scoping sales, and maybe it was nothing.

But then Gus and Abi were quiet, and Shawn heard the shouting. Faint from here, unintelligible, but there was definitely shouting.

"Gus, get Abi back to the house."

"Shawn?"

"Dad?"

"Go!" Shawn said more urgently. He started to push at his daughter, pushing her into Gus and urging them back toward home, but Abi latched onto him.

"Dad! Come with us." She had his memory. She was learning his observation skills thanks to Henry. She knew something was wrong.

Shawn squeezed her briefly and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay. It'll be fine. I'll just see what's up; ok? I'll be careful. Go with Uncle Gus."

Gus caught his gaze and shook his head. He was trying to say 'no, this stupid,' or maybe 'no, you take her, I'll go,' but Shawn shook his head back and shooed them on. Gus nodded and took the hint. Abi went with him, though reluctantly.

Somehow Shawn knew time was of the essence, but he watched them go for a moment anyway.


	20. Chapter 20

*presses post and hides behind sofa*

Chapter 20

July 5, 2030

Shawn sprinted across the back yard he grew up in, through the garage, and the kitchen door was ajar just like the outside door. Forced.

"Shut up!"

The shout came from inside and Shawn flattened himself against the garage wall outside the door, listening.

There was a whimper— _oh god, Lily_ —and Lassiter's voice reacting, desperate. "Please."

"'Please,' what? I should kill both of you. Her first."

"Adrian, Lily is all that's _left_ of Marlowe! She's your own flesh and blood! Why are you doing this!"

Adrian. _That_ was what this was about? Shawn grimaced. He should have recognized the voice from the trial.

"Because this is all I've wanted to do for sixteen years, dammit! Make you pay!"

Shawn wasn't armed. Either Gus or Jules would come back with a gun, but he didn't have one. Not right now. Ten years on the force, maybe, but he'd never taken to carrying one off duty. He couldn't be Lassie. It just wasn't him. He didn't think like that.

Maybe he should have tried.

" _Me_. _Me_ , Adrian; don't hurt her. _Please_ ," Lassiter was pleading.

And Lassie didn't have a gun in his hand right now either, or there would be none of that. Adrian must have gotten the drop on him, made him lose the weapon, or Vicellio would probably be dead and Lily would be safe right now.

"It's too late for that," Adrian answered, incredulous. "It's way too late for that."

No time. Shawn knew enough to know, just listening, that Adrian was serious. A quick glance through the crack in the door and he didn't see anything to contradict that. He was displaying nervous ticks, sure, but the kind that meant he was dangerous—not the kind that meant he was lying. There was no doubt in his voice. No room for give.

"What would killing you accomplish? You'd just be dead. I'd rather kill her and let you suffer." There was a scoffing sound. "You think you're such a good guy. You're really not."

Wrong.

The sirens this soon surprised Shawn. All of them. Gus must have dialed while running back to the other house and there must have been a unit nearby.

But they still might be too far away.

"No! Hey! Don't move!" Adrian shouted inside the kitchen. Of course Lassiter tried to take advantage of the distraction.

"Adrian—"

"Don't move! You move and you die, too!"

No. No no no. This couldn't happen. Shawn wouldn't let Lassie lose his daughter. He wouldn't let Lily lose her dad, too.

Lassie needed a better distraction.

Shawn glanced back, through the garage door, across the yards. The sirens were closer and he thought he saw movement from the direction of home. Maybe Gus. A flash of the color shirt his best friend had been wearing.

Too far away. No time.

He heard movement from inside the kitchen, a high-pitched sound from Lily and the start of an incoherent cry from Lassie.

No time.

Shawn spun, shoved the door the door the rest of the way open and shouted. "Hey!"

Distraction. It had worked before. The first time with Salamatchia, in the cemetery, all it took was a cordless phone thrown in the wrong place and it was enough for Lassiter to get control of the situation. That wasn't the only time, either.

Adrian started when Shawn shouted, and when he looked back his arm and the barrel of the gun swung with him. Lily didn't have a gun to her head anymore and Lassiter lunged. Shawn ducked out of the line of the line of fire again as the gun went off. Lily screamed.

Shawn heard the impact when Lassiter punched Vicellio, and he jumped back up and into the kitchen. "I've got it!" he called. _Get Lily out of here. Get her away from him._

Adrian was reeling, but still on his feet. The look on Lassie's face could have killed a dozen cats, but he met Shawn's eyes. He backed off quickly to pull Lily away.

Shawn moved in, but Adrian was already getting his bearings. He was still clinging to the gun. It came up and two shots went off after Lassie and Lily before they were out of sight.

"No, you don't!" Shawn growled. "Bastard…" He jumped on Vicellio, dragging them both back. Adrian stumbled and the gun fell from his hands finally and slid across the floor. They landed on the linoleum.

That should have been it. Shawn went in for a good punch to the jaw, hoping to knock him out and be done with it, but Adrian moved. Something flashed and came at Shawn's chest, and there was pain.

* * *

Spencer took over and Carlton dragged Lily into the living room. Two shots rang out behind them. Lily ducked into his chest and screamed as he pulled her out of the way. Across the room a lamp broke.

There were tears on her face when he pulled the cloth down and out of her mouth.

"You're okay? Are you okay?" He still couldn't breathe. Lily was nodding and he reached around behind her to untie her wrists.

"No, you don't!" Spencer said from the other room. "Bastard…"

"Lily?" Carlton asked. There were sounds of a scuffle from the kitchen. He had to get back in there.

"I-I'm fine," she gasped. "Go!" She twisted to the cabinet against the wall she was backed up against and pulled the gun out of the drawer there. She pushed it into his hands.

In the kitchen Spencer and Vicellio were on the floor. As Carlton came around the corner Spencer cried out, and he couldn't tell if Adrian still had a gun, but he had a clear shot at the younger man's back.

He took it.

Adrian crumpled and fell away. Carlton told himself Spencer shouted because Vicellio had gotten a blow in. Something. Something harmless. Anything. But then there was a clatter and a knife on the floor and Carlton saw the blood.

"Spencer?"

Adrian wasn't moving. Maybe he was breathing. If he was alive at all he wouldn't be any trouble anymore.

He would have to process the fact he'd just shot Marlowe's brother later.

Carlton dropped his gun on the table and snatched up the dish towel there—the first thing he saw. At least it was dry. "Spencer!" Shawn was gasping but he was mostly still, staring up in confusion when Carlton crouched over him.

"Lassie? Lily…" He moved, trying to see her. Carlton held him down by the shoulder.

"She's fine."

"Dad?" Lily. Behind him.

Carlton twisted and pointed over her shoulder. "Stay in there!" he ordered. "Call 911 and your Aunt Juliet!" Her eyes lingered briefly on Shawn, panicked, but she listened. She disappeared around the corner again.

When he looked back Spencer's eyes had closed. "Shawn!" Carlton said. "Shawn!" He pressed the towel over the wound in his chest and Spencer coughed. His eyes opened again.

The sirens were close now. Here. But that wasn't what they needed now.

"Hmm?" Shawn was asking. "Lily's okay?"

"She's fine," Carlton repeated.

"Good..." He was drifting again.

"Spencer, look at me! Help's coming, okay? You'll be fine. We've done this before. You'll be fine." Shawn focused on him. "You'll be _fine_."

"Something's different…"

What?

"Don't be stupid, Spencer. You're not going to die," Carlton growled. "You've been through worse."

Shawn shook his head weakly. "Something's different," he said again. It was barely a whisper.

"Stop it."

"It's okay, man, 'll just...go play racquetball with Mary…"

No.

The kitchen door burst open again. Guster. "Oh my god," he said. His gun came down and he left it on the counter by the door. "What happened?" he asked. He dropped down by Spencer's other side. "Shawn?"

No.

* * *

Everything was all right. Almost. Gus was here. Shawn could feel himself smiling. "Hey...buddy…"

"Shawn?"

"Hey…" he trailed. "You. Lauren. New York. Babies. You got me?"

Gus was kind of shaking his head. Why was he doing that? Shawn tried to move and his chest became a bright surge of pain. He grimaced and he remembered. Right. He was probably dying. That was why he was trying to say stuff.

"'-t's okay, Gus…it's okay, man. Go...do your thing," he said. The breathing thing was getting harder. Something was squeezing his hand and it was Gus. Of course it was. Gus was nodding, but he was telling Shawn to hold on. Or maybe he wasn't saying it. Maybe it was just the way he was squeezing Shawn's hand that said it. Shawn heard it. Lassie had definitely said that, anyway

"Yeah…" Gus said for sure.

"Yeah?" Shawn said. And this time Gus only nodded.

There were noises outside. Loud noises. The front door slammed open and there was the voice he really wanted to hear, coming from the front of the house.

"Shawn! Carlton!"

Lassie was still on the floor. He didn't get up but he twisted around to shout and Shawn thought he saw a grimace on Lassiter's face—thought he saw Lassie realize what was going on even though he didn't want to.

"Juliet, _in here_!"

And he'd never heard that much panic in Lassie's voice. Like, ever. And Shawn knew Lassie understood.

* * *

When Juliet called from the entryway something in Spencer's eyes flickered, and part of Carlton knew.

"Juliet, _in here_!"

He didn't remember turning to shout. He turned back and he didn't have to get Spencer's attention. Shawn was looking at him.

No. Oh god. Not like this. Lily was alive because of Shawn. This shouldn't be his reward. Hadn't they all been through enough?

"Spencer...thank you. Thank you." He swallowed. "Damnit, Shawn…"

There was still time for a miracle. There had to be. But he had to say it anyway. In case there wasn't.

"It's okay, Lassie…"

"Shawn!"

Then Juliet was there, and Spencer only had eyes for her.

* * *

Jules. Oh god, Jules.

Lassie moved away to make room for her by his side and Shawn wasn't okay anymore. Right. This was why he didn't want to die.

"Shawn? Shawn…" she gasped. She took his other hand. Gus was still clinging to one, and he was okay with that.

"Abi…" he trailed.

"She's fine. There's an officer at the house with her. She's safe. She's okay."

"Okay…"

Behind Jules, Lassie climbed clumsily to his feet and took unsteady steps back. He didn't look okay at all. _But it's okay. I told him it's okay. I made my choice._

But he would get it. Sometime. Jules would make sure he did. Or Gus would. Someone would. Shawn cared, but he had to focus on Jules now.

"Shawn?" she was saying.

"Jules...they'd...they'd lost Marlowe already…" She had to understand why. He didn't want her to think he wanted to leave.

"I know," she swallowed. "I know. It's okay." But she didn't look okay, either.

* * *

There was nothing more Carlton could do. Juliet was here, and she and Guster were with Shawn, and Lily had called for an ambulance.

It wasn't going to get here in time. He knew it, somehow. _Shawn_ knew it.

An officer pushed into the house after Juliet, but there was nothing for him to do. Carlton pointed him to Vicellio, but the younger man was still unconscious. There was nothing to do but keep an eye on him until a medical team arrived.

Carlton left the kitchen in a daze. Something made his feet move. He wanted to stay. For Juliet. But Guster was there. Then he was in the living room again and Lily was just standing there, looking at him.

"Dad?"

Oh god. Lily.

He went to her, and took her around the shoulders and gently urged her toward the front door. "Come on," Carlton said roughly, because he couldn't get anything else out. He knew what was coming. He needed to get her outside, but she resisted him.

"What about Uncle Shawn?"

"Lily—"

"What about Uncle Shawn?" she repeated, more urgently. "Will he be okay? The ambulance is coming. He has to be okay. He's Abi's dad. He—" She stopped, maybe just because she couldn't go on. He didn't cut her off this time.

Carlton couldn't answer. They'd only made it as far as the entryway and Lily was looking at him, holding his arms, she wouldn't budge, and all he could do was look back.

"It's my fault," Lily choked. "I tried to—"

" _No_. No, baby, it's not your fault. It's _not_." That came out. Thank god.

* * *

"I love you," Shawn whispered. Jules kissed him, and everything was starting to fade but at least he could feel that. Really feel it. Her fingers brushed his cheek and he kissed back, and the pain was mostly gone by now and flat on his back it was easy enough to pretend it was last night again. They were in bed, drifting off, saying good night, and tomorrow would be another day.

Jules pulled back, and she was crying, and Shawn knew she wasn't okay now. Lassie wasn't, and Gus wasn't. Abigail and his dad wouldn't be. Not for a while. But they would take care of each other. They'd done it before. He'd seen it.

And when he knew it, Shawn was okay again.

Gus was still holding his other hand, too tightly, but he didn't mind. Shawn looked at Gus and he thought he was smiling. He couldn't tell so much anymore. Everything was going dark. Lassie was gone. Jules was asking him to hold on. He could hear a new siren already, just for a moment, before that faded away too and couldn't hear anything but Jules.

All he could see was her face, and he decided that wasn't a bad way to go at all.

Shawn heard Jules tell him she loved him and—

* * *

"Shawn!" The cry came from the kitchen, too soon. They weren't outside yet. Lily wasn't supposed to hear that.

Lily tried to go back. She tried to get around him but Carlton caught her and pulled her back to him. "No. Lily…" His voice broke, because Juliet was crying and he knew what it meant.

Shawn was gone.

He pulled Lily back, into his chest. He held her tight because there was nothing else to do now. She was sobbing into his shirt and he'd always thought he would be the one holding it together, if this ever happened.

But once he'd tucked his daughter's head under his chin and he could hide his tears in her hair, Carlton was crying, too.

* * *

NOTE: This is short and to the point, mostly, because I don't take this any more lightly that ya'll do, I promise, and I didn't want to leave ya'll hanging after the end of the last chapter. There's nothing else in this one because Shawn deserves to have this chapter to himself. Well, with the necessary one other perspective, anyway. Well get to Jules and Gus in the next chapter, but the minimalism here was a choice.


	21. Chapter 21

I'm SO glad to have finally had to time to write at all after the Thanksgiving holiday and busyness at work (which is still kinda going on, but anyway) and also thank you so much to any of you who voted for the version of this story uploaded to the Fandom 2 contest over at Inkitt. :) Ya'll are the greatest!

Chapter 21

July 5, 2030

It must have been only minutes, if that, from the moment Shawn's eyes closed to the moment the house flooded with SBPD personnel and a medical team.

To Juliet it seemed like a lifetime.

She knew Gus moved to her side. She felt him holding her but she couldn't see him there. She could see only watery colors and too soon her chest ached from sobbing. She wasn't done. She squeezed Shawn's hand until she couldn't anymore, even though he wasn't there and that didn't make any sense. How could he not be here?

But she was not too far gone to notice, when they finally took him and she had to let go, that there were two gurneys but only one body bag.

What that meant was not something she could deal with now.

Part of her knew Carlton would be with Lily. She wanted him here beside her but she wouldn't have expected anything else. She clung to Gus instead, and Gus didn't say much but he didn't let go.

Juliet didn't feel grounded again until she heard the barking. It cut through the haze and she looked up.

"Junior?" Gus asked.

Juliet nodded without a word and broke away to climb up the stairs, toward the source of the noise. Gus was on her heels, and around the corner at the top of the stairs they found the Lassiters' dog stuck behind a baby gate. The old basset hound was whining and scratching, barking at the commotion downstairs. He quieted when he saw them.

"Lily must have had him upstairs with her," Juliet murmured.

They couldn't give Junior free access to the stairs anymore. He couldn't get up and down them on his own easily at his age. He had to be carried. The top and bottom of the stairs were blocked with gates to keep him from trying and hurting himself.

"Hey, boy…" Juliet opened the gate and sat down on the top step, and Junior pushed his head into her lap and curled up against her. Gus sat down beside them.

There was nothing for them to do downstairs. They would have to give statements later, but no one was bothering them for that now. No one would miss them for a few minutes and Juliet was glad for the quiet up here.

So they sat. Gus didn't say a word, and Juliet was all right with that.

She needed the space to think before she had to go home. Before she had to talk to Abi.

Juliet sobbed again, and Gus reached for her hand. The pressure grounded her once more, and it was the moment she realized she had yet to really think of anyone other than herself and her daughter.

"Oh my god," she gasped quietly. "Gus...your whole lives…"

So much longer. He'd known Shawn so much longer than she had. She tried to make it to the words _I'm sorry_ , but her throat closed before she got there.

Gus looked down, at nothing, and squeezed her hand, and that was enough. It was _I know_ and _don't apologize_ and _I'm sorry too_ all at once.

In that moment Juliet knew how close she was to Gus, himself, and right then it helped.

They stayed there until she heard Carlton calling, looking for her. She and Gus looked at each other, and Gus picked up Junior and they made their way back down the stairs. Carlton met them at the base. When Gus put Junior down the dog sniffed at Lassiter's legs and stayed at his side.

"Juliet…" Carlton began.

"Are you all right?" Juliet asked. She cut him off before he could apologize. Before he could say something that would only make her cry again.

He blinked, as if he wasn't processing. She couldn't blame him. "What?"

"Are you all right? Is Lily all right?" She couldn't form any other sentences.

Carlton swallowed. "Lily, uhm...she's not hurt. I'm not. We…" He trailed off and stopped.

"Good," Juliet whispered.

The three of them stood in a silent triangle, until Carlton gently took her shoulders. "You should go home," he said, and even though he was right there, facing her, speaking to her, she didn't feel as if he were looking at her. It seemed as if maybe he couldn't.

"There's nothing more you can do here right now," he said. "Someone's still down there with Abi, but…" Juliet was nodding with him, staring at plaid on his chest because she didn't know if she could look him in the eyes right now, either.

The Gus said something. "Henry…"

At that Jules looked up. Her breath caught on the lump in her throat and Carlton's hands slipped from her shoulders. He finally looked at her briefly, at both of them, before his eyes misted and he looked away again.

Juliet knew from his face what he was going to say before he said it.

"I called Henry. He's on his way," Carlton said quietly.

And Juliet sobbed one more time. She reached out and tipped into him and Carlton held her for a moment. But something still felt wrong, like he wasn't there.

"Guster..." he said over her head.

"Yeah," Gus sighed. Juliet let go of Lassiter and Gus was there with an arm around her shoulders. Carlton's hands lingered on her arms, just for a few seconds.

"I...I should go to the station," Carlton said. "I'll take care of everything just...go home. You should be there. Let me know if there's anything else I can do. Let me know if you need anything. Please."

She knew he meant it. So why did she just want to cry when he walked away?

* * *

Adrian Viccellio was alive. Barely, but he was alive when the ambulance left the house with sirens blaring.

Carlton didn't know how he felt about that. He couldn't compute it now.

Juliet and Guster left. Guster tried to convince her to let one of the officers give them a ride down the street, but she wanted to walk. Carlton watched them get safely off down the sidewalk, and once Juliet looked back.

Carlton couldn't meet her gaze, and he didn't know why.

Lily was still in the entryway when he went back inside, sitting on a bench against the wall. Junior was curled up at her feet now.

They'd never found another name for him. Lassie Junior stuck, and after a while it was just Junior, so no one was confused.

Lily looked up from scratching the old dog's ears as he came back in.

 _They'll grow up together. It will be adorable!_

Carlton stopped and looked at them. For a moment he couldn't move.

"Dad?"

 _Dammit, Spencer._

He cleared his throat. "I need to head to the station. What, um...what do you want to do?"

"I want to come you," Lily said, without hesitation. She got to her feet and hugged him, and he couldn't say no to that.

"Okay…"

"Can Junior come with us?"

Carlton sighed and looked down at the dog again. "Yeah."

He took the leash from the hook by the door and sent Lily out to the car with Junior while he made sure there was nothing else he was needed for here.

When he made it outside McNab's personal car was idling by the sidewalk out front. Francine McNab was in car and Buzz was hurrying up the walk. He made a beeline to meet Lassiter in the middle when he saw him.

"Chief? I...we came as soon as you—I'm so sorry, I...where's Juliet?" He didn't complete a single sentence.

"Slow down, McNab. Guster took her home."

"Is...there anything I can do here?"

"No. Dobson's in charge here; he's got it," Carlton assured him. He looked off down the street, and on the sidewalk Juliet and Guster had nearly made it back to the other house. McNab followed his gaze.

"Take care of your partner," Carlton said.

McNab got back in the car with his wife. Carlton went to his own car and he had to stop before he got in. Lily was inside and he had to stop, had to lean into the side of the vehicle for a moment. Their house and everyone still on the scene was behind him and no one could see the face he made over the top of the car. No one could hear the uneven breath he pulled in and pushed out again.

He composed himself before he climbed into the car, and then he was sorry he'd waited. Lily was curled in the passenger's seat, knees pulled up to her chest, and she was crying again.

"Lily…"

"Can we just...do we have to go straight there?" she asked.

"No."

* * *

When Juliet looked back Carlton had looked away again. Maybe not so obviously, but she knew and it was another pit in her stomach.

 _It's not your fault._

Why couldn't she have looked him in the eyes and said that five minutes ago?

A car passed them on the street and pulled into her driveway ahead of them. When Juliet and Gus made it there McNab and Frannie and their son were climbing out of their car.

"Buzz," Juliet said.

He didn't seem to know what to say, but he hugged her. She didn't know why she had the thought now but it was so strange to remember, sometimes, that he'd been her partner longer than Carlton ever was.

He'd come a long way in that time. He was a good detective. He was her friend. Family. Her family was so much bigger than it used to be, and that wasn't a bad thing.

Then she remembered Carlton's face, and the way it felt hollow when he hugged her. Not the way it felt now, hugging Buzz; this was good, warm and welcome, and with him and Gus here she felt like just maybe she could walk into that house. Maybe she could take another step.

But that feeling wasn't going to last long if part of her family was falling apart.

* * *

"Henry...I'm so sorry…"

Henry knew the beginning of that phone call would haunt him. How he answered and at first there was only a harsh inhale on the other end. How he knew what was wrong before Carlton even got those first four words out.

Lassiter said his name, and the way he said it was enough. Henry knew. His stomach dropped and his chest tightened and he couldn't breathe, and his first thought was _how the hell am I supposed to tell Maddy?_

"What happened?" he asked. He didn't know where he'd gotten the air from.

Wondering how he was going to survive this himself came later.

It came now, pulling into his son's driveway. Looking at the house on the corner Maddy used to point to, that Shawn and his family had lived in for nine years.

A house that would never have Shawn in it again.

And he knew he'd have these feelings all over again the next time he set foot in Carlton's house. When he looked around the house his son grew up in and remembered again that he was gone. How could it now be where he died, too?

But Henry was here for a reason, now. He was here for Abi. He was here for Juliet.

He wasn't the only one. Henry made it inside and Guster was still there. Of course he was. McNab and Frannie were there, and their son, a little younger than Abi, was hovering near his friend. Abi was practically on top of her mother on the couch. Guster was in the next chair, Buzz was hovering too, and Frannie was trying to make tea for everyone even though it was July in California and it was hot out.

None of them looked like they planned on going anywhere any time soon. Somehow that made Henry feel a bit better.

Abi jumped up when she saw him and ran into his arms. Juliet got up after her, and she didn't wait for Abi to let go to latch onto Henry too.

Henry didn't mind.

* * *

Juliet convinced Buzz and his family, eventually, to go home by that night. Henry stayed, taking that extra den downstairs they'd turned into another bedroom after all—for guests, anyhow. Juliet tried to convince Gus to go home, but he wouldn't.

"I'll be on the couch," he said firmly. "Unless you plan to kick me out."

"No," Juliet told him gratefully. "I wouldn't do that."

Not now. Not today. She needed him too much.

Carlton was still at the station. Lily was with him. He'd called once, but he wasn't here.

With the house quiet Juliet trudged up the stairs after Abi, who refused to go up without her. She stopped in her daughter's room, and she couldn't bring herself to go anywhere else.

"Mom?" Abi asked.

Juliet was just standing in the doorway, staring into nothing. Not the best thing to be doing. She blinked and focused again, and she brushed Abi's hair from her face. The girl's eyes were still red-rimmed, and Juliet couldn't imagine what she looked like herself.

"Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight?" she asked.

Abi just shrugged, and they crawled into her bed without even bothering to change.

* * *

Lily had long since fallen asleep on the couch in Carlton's office. Junior was on the rug beside her, snoring.

They couldn't go home. Not until at least tomorrow. There was nothing unsolved about the case—the rest of the day in paperwork and headaches, certainly, but nothing unsolved, obviously—so it wouldn't be long before the department could release the crime scene. It might be as soon as the morning.

He should have gotten a hotel room and sent Lily there hours ago. Or sent her to a friend. Everyone they considered family was affected by this. Juliet had enough people at her house, and Henry was one of them. But Lily hadn't seemed to want to leave his side anyway, so he let her stay. He couldn't bear the thought of letting her out of his sight as it was.

The station was quiet again now—hours of commotion punctuated by awkward silences and it was truly silent now. It was dark out, and late. Nearly everyone was gone. Carlton couldn't remember how many times or to how many people he'd said _GO HOME_. He didn't want to see their worried or sympathetic faces anymore. He couldn't. He didn't want to see most of the department standing around awkwardly, lost for how to respond to this.

Holiday weekend or no, the bad news had spread quickly. They'd lost Shawn Spencer. Spencer was heart of the SBPD before he was even a part of it.

Most of the main lights were off, but there was still faint light coming from the end of the bullpen, from downstairs. When Carlton wandered that direction he wasn't surprised to find the light coming from the morgue.

"Strode?" he called.

A voice drifted from inside. "I come in peace!"

Carlton let out a breath and pushed inside. "I'm the one 'coming,' you idiot…"

He trailed off and stopped when he realized there was still a covered form on the table. Strode looked like he'd been about to offer some sort of nonsensical retort, but then he didn't. He waited. He looked from Lassiter to the form on the table and made a face.

Carlton swallowed. "That's…?"

"Yeah…finished not long ago." Strode motioned to his computer. "Sent the report up—"

"Right." He remembered the notification popping up. He hadn't clicked on it. "I just haven't um...not yet."

"Right."

"You came in for this?"

Strode shrugged. "Would have. Been sleeping here."

"Again?"

Carlton started to leave. He took a step back and he started to turn, but though he still couldn't face that report there was one thing he needed to know.

"Strode...could we have done anything? At all? Ah…"

He didn't really know how to put it in words, but Strode knew what he meant. He opened his mouth, and he had that look that meant he was about to launch into some sort of drawn-out explanation, but Carlton stopped him.

"Short answer, Strode," he said tightly. It came out thin, quiet.

"Ah...then no. Not at all. He bled out too qui—"

Carlton held up a hand to stop the details. He tried to leave again but the coroner called after him.

"Chief?"

"What?" He turned around and Strode was nowhere to be seen, until he popped out from the back again with a bottle and two glasses.

"Care for a drink?"

"Strode! You know you're not supposed to have that down here!"

Strode just blinked a few times, and repeated his question. "Drink? It's scotch."

Carlton rolled his eyes, but he couldn't turn that down. Not right now. It wasn't really his working hours anyway.

"I'll let it slide this time," he muttered.

He accepted a glass and Strode was chattering about something. He wasn't listening and soon enough the chatter stopped. Not normal for Strode, but if there was ever a time for the coroner to actually be picking up on a social cue or two…

Carlton stared into the glass in his hand. His memory was working overtime.

 _I can't just let things SLIDE, Spencer. I'm the chief of police now._

 _...this is totally the table you had a fight with._

 _You were ON the floor. Right there. Coulda been yesterday._

Strode lifted his glass to the autopsy table. "To Shawn Spencer. One of the crazy ones to the end. Rest in peace, my friend."

No. No. Too soon. He couldn't do this now.

Carlton swallowed hard and set the glass down on the counter by the wall behind them, maybe a little too hard.

"Chief?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Thank you. I…"

That was all Carlton could get out. He beat a hasty retreat before Strode could see anything else.

"Chief? It's good scotch, I promise! Well...not awful…ok, maybe awful..."

Strode's voice faded away behind him as Carlton hurried out into the downstairs hall.

Lily was still asleep. Thank god. Upstairs he slipped in and circled the office closing any blinds that weren't closed already, and Junior was the only one to look up and watch him. He turned off the rest of the lights in the office other than one small lamp in a corner, and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch over Lily's shoulders. He settled into the armchair next to the couch where his daughter slept.

Carlton laid back in the chair and he knew he'd feel it tomorrow, sleeping like this, but he didn't have the energy to do anything else. It was so late there was no point in waking Lily to find a hotel now. If they needed a place to be tomorrow night they could find one then. Earlier.

There was a whimper at his knee and a cold nose brushing his hand. Carlton leaned up again a moment, to give Junior's head and ears a good scratch. "Good dog," he sighed.

 _Lassie, meet Lassie Junior._

 _Doggie!_

Carlton closed his eyes and tried not to remember anymore.


	22. Chapter 22

Sorry ya'll, crazy week at work. Yay holidays, haha. :)

Thanks so much for everything ya'll! I can't wait to hear from you!

Chapter 22

July 6, 2030

Sometimes when Carlton dreamed, he dreamed everything was as it should be. He dreamed and Marlowe was there.

The first time was confusing. He'd come downstairs and he thought it was morning, but there she was. He didn't know he was dreaming, but he knew she'd been gone. He knew she shouldn't be there. But no one said anything about the fact that she'd died, and it didn't take long for him not to care how she was back. When he woke later, of course, he supposed it was because it _was_ a dream that he'd accepted it so easily.

It started even before the funeral, and the first few months those dreams were part of what helped him survive. They were clearer than normal dreams—more linear; they made more sense—but he didn't think it was strange. Just a coping mechanism his subconscious mind was imposing.

At least, he thought that was all any shrink would tell him if he actually deigned to go to one. He didn't, of course.

It wasn't every night, but it was often enough at first. Carlton would sleep, and he would be there—in this alternate world his mind had created. There was nothing otherwise special about it. He dreamed moments like the ones that made up much of their lives, in the year they'd had after Marlowe was released from prison. Everyday things. Afternoons and evenings spent on the couch or in the kitchen or the bedroom. Late night conversations. Watching Lily grow.

As time went on the dreams were fewer and farther between. He dreamed when things happened, instead. When Lily hit a new milestone or there was a particularly hard case to deal with. He dreamed it over again, but with Marlowe there—there to see Lily's first steps or there to tell him everything would be all right. It almost seemed as if she hadn't missed a thing. It was only that while Carlton and Lily aged, Marlowe stayed the same.

He'd thought he would dream when Lily turned sixteen, but he didn't. By then he didn't think he'd had one of the dreams in years. He wondered if maybe he didn't need them anymore.

But he wanted them.

Still, he never wanted it to be something like losing Spencer that jumpstarted them again.

But here she was.

Carlton was at the base of the stars, like the first time. He was dressed for work and Marlowe was in the living room, still in pajama pants and a t-shirt. She had a half-empty cup of coffee in one hand and she was browsing the DVD shelf with the other.

"When was the last time we really went through these?" she asked. "Why do we even _have_ most of these? It's like having a shelf full of tapes would have been twenty years ago. Are we those people now? We could probably donate most of them…"

The confusion passed, and it was like any other time he'd had this dream. Any awareness this might be a dream was gone, and Carlton was just here. Part of him still felt that it had been a while, and that something else was wrong...but that was all.

"You're probably right," he said. He smiled in amusement and went to her. He tugged her coffee cup out of her hand to set it on the mantle out of the way, and pulled her to him and kissed her. "Good morning, Mrs. Lassiter."

Marlowe smirked up at him and shoved a movie in his face. "You're trying to distract me. We should do that this weekend."

" _Fine_ , Bunnyface, but Lily has to help; half of those are hers."

There was already pounding on the stairs, as as he said it Lily barreled around the corner with a beach bag over her shoulder. "I have to help what?" she asked.

"Go through the movies," Marlowe said. "We should get rid of half of them. These aren't even all of them! There are boxes in the attic!"

"Probably at least a couple of those are Spencer's," Carlton grumbled.

"Okay, fine," Lily said. "Can I go? Abi's waiting for me."

"You're just going across the street, right?" he called after her.

"Yes, Dad! Mom can keep an eye on us and all. We'll be fine!" she called back.

"Not within twenty yards of anything of the male species! Lily!"

"I heard you the first few million times, Dad! Bye, Mom!"

"Have fun, sweetheart!" Marlowe answered. She looped an arm through Carlton's as they watched her go. "She'll be fine," she said after a moment.

"I know, I know…" he huffed.

Marlowe laughed at him and kissed him again. "Really, though, are we weird and old fashioned?"

"Baby, we've been weird and old fashioned from the start, but _I_ happen to think that's something to be proud of."

"Okay. I'll buy that."

Carlton grinned, and he knew he should be getting to work, but he held onto her for a while. He didn't remember why he didn't want to let go, but she didn't seem to mind.

He was nearly late, and for once he didn't care. Then his office door burst open again mere seconds after he'd closed it, and of course it was Spencer.

"Lassie! Hey. You're actually not ridiculously early."

Carlton spun around, briefcase still in hand, and for a moment he didn't understand. He was looking at Spencer and he knew something was wrong, _had_ been wrong, and…

Spencer. That's what it was. Spencer shouldn't be here, either. Not anymore. But Marlowe had come back; why wouldn't Shawn? Even Brannigan was fine here; she had her own station, somewhere upstate. The two of them and Karen got together to compare notes sometimes.

"Lassie? Earth to Lassie…"

Carlton cleared his throat.

"What, Spencer?"

Shawn pointed past him to the computer console built into his desk. "Reports," he said.

Carlton rolled his eyes. "You know you don't actually have to walk in here and tell me they're there, right? That's what we have the system _for_."

"Well, obviously, Lassie, but it gives me an excuse to bug you. You should know this by now," Spencer smirked.

"And you could actually _call_ me chief when when we're on duty every now and then; even Guster and your wife see fit to do so on occasion."

"I do! You're Chief Lassie, Chief Lassie."

"That's not what I—" Carlton shook his head and went to his desk to finally put his briefcase down. "You know what? Never mind."

Spencer followed him inside a few steps. "Come on, son. You knew what you were getting into hiring me for real."

"Fine. So I did. Go...bug McNab, or something."

Spencer chuckled to himself and Carlton thought he was leaving, but then he stopped and spoke up again.

"Hey...Lassie?"

"What?" Carlton looked up and Shawn was meeting his eyes. He seemed so serious all of a sudden.

"It's okay, you know."

Carlton blinked. "What?"

But Shawn just smiled. "Never mind," he said. He retreated out into the bullpen, made a beeline for Juliet's desk even though surely they'd come to work together, as they always did.

 _It's okay, Lassie…_

He couldn't look away. Through the office door Shawn had left open he watched Spencer bend down to kiss his wife's cheek. Juliet tried to fend him off. They were on duty, after all, and she was nothing if not professional.

 _Juliet, IN HERE!_

Carlton swallowed, and the world spun. Memory took over what he thought was reality, and in the moment he remembered it was only a dream, he woke up. Like he always did.

He was still in his office, but it was half dark. The only light was the early morning gray seeping through the blinds and the one small lamp in the corner. Lily was still asleep on the couch and he was twisted awkwardly in the armchair beside it.

"Ow…" Carlton groaned quietly as he sat up. His back ached, and there was a crick in his neck and an annoying amount of grit in his eyes. But at least he'd slept. At least Marlowe and Spencer had been there.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes to wipe the sleep from them, and realized his cheeks were damp, too. _Damnit…_

He quickly wiped his face dry, and trudged downstairs to the locker rooms to shower and change into actual work clothes. When he came back upstairs Junior was still snoring on the rug, but Lily was awake and sitting curled in the corner of the couch.

"We slept here?" she asked when she saw him. "You could have woken me up…"

"It's fine," Carlton sighed.

"Where did _you_ sleep? Please don't tell me you slept in that chair," she said, pointing to the armchair. "Tell me you at least went to the other couch in the break room or something." He didn't answer. "Dad!"

"I'm fine," he insisted. He went to the couch and handed her the bundle in his arms. "Here. You still had some clothes in my locker downstairs."

"Thanks…" Lily took the clothes and let out a breath as she got to her feet. She started to head out to the bathroom, but she stopped. "Dad?"

"Hm?"

"This may sound weird, but...did you dream about Mom last night?"

Carlton blinked, but it wasn't as strange as it could have been. Lily had seen pictures, videos...she knew what Marlowe had looked like, and sounded like. She'd told him before that she'd had dreams about her mother.

"I um...yeah," he admitted quietly. "I did."

He wouldn't have thought anything else of it. But Lily smiled a little, and when she passed him on the way out of the office he thought she was mumbling something about DVDs.

* * *

Juliet wasn't surprised when she didn't sleep for long. She woke early, while it was still mostly dark out. She'd fallen asleep with her daughter nestled against her but Abi was now sprawled over most of the full-sized bed and buried in a burrito of blankets. Juliet found herself pushed to the edge with nothing but the sheet.

But that happened so often with Shawn it felt familiar. Right. Somehow it helped that this first morning not everything had changed. Not yet.

She stayed still for a few minutes, listening to the relative silence of the house. She tried to catch her dreams but all that was clear was Shawn's face. The rest came in flashed. Being in the car? The station? But that was normal enough. It was good, even, after she'd been almost afraid she would sleep and there would be nightmares instead. Or nothing.

She thought she could remember the echo of a dreamed laugh, a kiss, and for a moment she felt warm.

Juliet pushed back enough of the blankets to find Abi's face and kissed her forehead before she climbed out of the bed. She wandered downstairs, still in her clothes from yesterday, and it was deja vu again when she found a light on in the kitchen.

She almost expected it to be Carlton, before she remembered he wasn't here. It was Henry.

She sat across the kitchen table from him, and when she did he got up without a word and came back with coffee for her. It was a while before either of them spoke. When Henry did, she was glad it wasn't to ask her pointless questions. Whether she was all right.

"Juliet...I don't want to leave right now, but...I think I need to go get Maddy," he began slowly. "I can't...I tried to call her last night. I couldn't do it. I can't tell her this over the phone."

And she remembered _he_ had to hear it over the phone, and even though she hadn't been the one who had to do it she opened her mouth. She wanted to apologize. But Henry was already waving a hand at her, fending her off.

"No. Don't. It's all right. It had just happened, things had to be taken care of, and I needed to know. I needed to be here. Carlton did the right thing. It's just...I have a choice here, and I'd rather…" Henry trailed off and looked away for a moment, making a face at nothing.

"She's his mother," he said finally.

"I know," Juliet answered, finally. Her throat was tight. "You're right."

"I won't go if you really don't want me to."

"You should go."

Henry looked at her for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure. We have Gus, and I'm sure Buzz and Frannie will be back, and my mom and Lloyd will be here by tonight. We'll be okay. I promise. You should go...do what you think is right."

Henry just nodded silently, and he reached across the table and took her hand.

* * *

With two of his best teams down for the count Carlton couldn't just not work. He had to be there, at the station. He didn't expect Juliet, Guster, _or_ McNab to be there. Not until after the funeral, whenever that was going to happen. He hoped Juliet would stay at home longer.

But he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when McNab showed up anyway.

"What are you doing here?" Carlton question. "Juliet—"

"Gus and Frannie are over there, Chief, and I was there all day yesterday. Don't get me wrong; I want to be there, but there's work to be done here. Let me help."

How could he say no to that? And the deja vu was not lost on him.

Maybe with McNab here today he would be able to leave early. Guster had already called him—told him that Henry would be gone for a couple of days. The reason why made sense, and Carlton didn't blame him, but it meant Guster was going to need _his_ help making arrangements.

They sure as hell weren't going to let Juliet do that on her own.

"All right."

* * *

Henry helped them pull out everything they needed before he left. They got a head start. But the kitchen table was still covered in papers when Lassiter finally showed up that afternoon.

It was bad enough this was a job Gus had never hoped he would have to do—helping to straighten out his best friend's affairs...plan Shawn's funeral.

God. Funeral. Shawn. What the hell was going on?

It was worse watching Lassiter come in dazed, not quite there. Juliet hugged him and he barely noticed. Juliet barely reacted. She retreated to the couch with Abi and Frannie and watched some movie none of them cared about. They were completely failing to communicate with each other, and it didn't make any sense. It was so different than last time. When they lost Marlowe. They were together now, but they weren't.

"Where's Lily?" Abi asked.

"She asked me to drop her and Junior off at Tiffany's house for tonight...I'm sorry," Lassiter told her.

"Is she okay?"

And Gus could see he really didn't know how to answer that. He mumbled out something about she would be, and Abi hugged him, and he seemed a little closer to really engaging then. Maybe. But then it was over.

Lassie joined Gus in the kitchen to help, and when he got going it was clear the logic side of his brain was working just fine. What was wrong with the rest of him? With all of them?

Maybe it was because it was different this time.

"Hey...Lassie?" Lassiter winced, and Gus backpedaled. "I mean…"

Lassiter waved a hand dismissively. "Call me whatever the hell you want, Guster. You'll be family soon enough, anyway."

Gus's mouth pressed into a thin line for a moment before he answered. "I kinda thought we already were."

Lassie sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I know. I meant...you're right. Never mind. Whatever."

"It's fine."

"What were you trying to ask, Guster?"

"How you're doing?"

"Doing?" Lassiter echoed. His eyes narrowed. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. None of us are fine, and you know it." Gus got a glare for his efforts on that one.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Lassiter questioned testily.

Gus shook his head. "Stop trying to fix it with duct tape."

"What?"

"Let me give you a hint." Gus picked up a stack of papers, shook it a little for emphasis, and dropped it to the table again. "This is duct tape."

"It has to be done…"

"I know that. That's not the point."

Lassie looked down at what he had in front of him, and shoved it aside in frustration. "God, couldn't he file anything like a normal person?"

"You're trying to change the subject. Besides, what do you think I'm here for? I know how Shawn thinks. Give me that." He reached for the file, but set it in front of him to wait until this conversation was finished.

"Guster…"

"What?" Gus snapped. He really snapped. He hadn't meant to do that. Lassiter's eyebrows were up. "Sorry…" he trailed.

None of them were fine. Maybe he should listen to himself.

"It's fine, just...don't, all right?" Lassie asked.

"Fine…"

Either Lassiter got it, or he would. Maybe emotions were still too high to get into it. So Gus stopped.

They still had each other. As long as they all had that, they'd figure it out eventually.

* * *

Carlton would still scarcely look at her, but every time Juliet opened her mouth nothing came out. Lily wasn't even here. She'd gone to Tiffany's, one of her friends in her own grade, but she was only sixteen and Juliet couldn't blame her for that. For escaping. She would be more than welcome here, and hopefully Lily knew that, but if she needed to be somewhere else right now that was okay.

Maybe that was what Carlton needed. More time. A little space. She couldn't imagine how he felt, and yet he was still here now. He was doing what he could.

When the doorbell rang she thought it was her mother and Lloyd. She went to the door without a second thought and stood frozen when it was open.

It wasn't her mother and Lloyd.

"Frank?"

He was here. She'd left a message sometime last night, but she hadn't really thought…

"Sweetheart...I'm so sorry. I—"

"Shut up and come here," Juliet gasped. She pulled him inside, shut the door, and latched onto him, and he didn't seem to have a problem with that.

"I-I don't know if I can stay until...when is everything? I don't know. But I came as soon—"

"Stop," she said, cutting him off again. "Just stop. I don't care. Ok? Just…"

"Ok."

* * *

They heard the doorbell, but Carlton didn't get up. He assumed it was Juliet's mother and Lloyd, but a moment later Abi ran into the kitchen.

"My grandpa's here!" she told them. "Like...my real grandpa, not Grandpa Lloyd."

Carlton looked up at that. "What?"

"What?" Gus echoed.

They were up out of their seats and following her back to the living room, and Carlton didn't believe it until he saw it. He could count on one hand the number of times Frank O'Hara had shown up in Santa Barbara in the last dozen years or so.

But he was here now.

"I'll be damned," he muttered.

Juliet was glad to see her father. Of course she was, right now. And Carlton thought maybe Guster had meant well, what he was trying to say before, but he was wrong. Juliet needed him doing exactly what he was doing.

She had everyone else—Abi and Guster and McNab and Frannie and she'd have her mother and Lloyd and even Frank, now, to be with her. She didn't need one more person trying to crowd the space by her side. She needed someone to get things done, and that was what he could do.

* * *

July 7, 2030

"Frank can have the couch. I'll go home for now. Lauren should be here tomorrow, anyway."

Gus remembered saying it, but he didn't know why he had. Staying there and sleeping on a floor somewhere would probably have been better than coming home and sitting here alone all night, watching movies he usually would have watched with Shawn—which really meant any movie.

Maybe he'd thought he would cry. Maybe he'd thought the movies would help him do it. But he didn't. All of the times he'd cried at the drop of a hat over things that had nothing to do with him, and now Shawn was gone and all he could feel was...nothing, really. Just that it shouldn't be this way.

He hadn't slept. He'd barely eaten, and that _really_ meant something was wrong. At the house with Juliet and Abi at least he'd had something to do. He could go back now that it was daylight again, there were still things to be done there anyway, but he didn't think he could make the drive. He was too exhausted.

He didn't know how late in the morning it was when he heard a key in the door, and Lauren letting herself in.

"Gus?" her voice called. "Are you here? I knocked…"

Had she?

Gus pushed up from where he was buried in blankets on the couch, and he didn't have time to answer before she was there in the doorway.

"Gus?"

Lauren. He looked at her, and something shifted inside him. He loved her. He was going to spend the rest of his life with her.

He was going to marry her, but Shawn wasn't going to be there.

Where was that sound coming from?

"Gus!"

Lauren was moving faster now. Her eyebrows were up and she was rushing forward. By the time she made it to his side Gus was doubled over, and he realized the sound was him—a wail, some sort of keening; he didn't know. Lauren wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. He was sobbing now, but that was okay.


	23. Chapter 23

Finally back from vacation! Time to write finally! Woo! So sorry there was such a long break here, ya'll. Hope ya'll are still around, haha, and I can't wait to hear from you! I hope you all had good holidays!

Chapter 23

July 7, 2030

Henry woke in an empty bed, atop covers that had never been turned down. A small throw blanket was stretched awkwardly over him and another lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. Light streamed between the curtains. He knew exactly where he was, and why. If he hadn't, the crinkled, stiff, and newly dry spot on the front of his shirt would have given it away.

He let himself pretend it wasn't what it was. Henry let himself pretend it was any Saturday morning forty years ago. In a few seconds ten year old Shawn would run in here complaining about something, and Gus would be on his heels. Maddie would call up that breakfast was ready.

But it wasn't forty years ago, and this wasn't Santa Barbara. It wasn't even Saturday. The only thing that was the same was that Maddie was actually here.

She'd known. When he showed up at her door last night. Of course she had. Henry had scarcely gotten her name out before she was shaking her head and backing away from the door.

Now he found her in the kitchen putting away clean dishes. She'd changed and there was already a packed bag by the front door of the apartment.

"You should eat something," she said, without turning around. "I've already found us a flight back."

"Thanks, I'm...not hungry."

Last night she'd clung to him until they'd both fallen asleep. Now Henry was suddenly afraid Maddie was going to shut him out.

But when she'd put the last dish away she turned around. She came around the counter and wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment, like last night, everything was...a little more bearable.

"You really should eat," she mumbled into his shoulder.

Henry just held on. "Maybe in a minute."

* * *

They were back in Santa Barbara by that evening. By the time they made it over to the house on the corner Juliet's mother and Lloyd were there, presumably to stay for a while, and...Frank? All of them keeping Abi company in the living room when Henry and Maddie arrived. Abi was glad to see Maddie. It had been a while since she'd seen her other grandmother.

Gus and Lauren were in the kitchen with Lassiter and McNab, the table still strewn with papers and data cards. The counters and the refrigerator were more stacked with food than when Henry had left.

Lily was nowhere to be seen. Or Juliet herself, for that matter. He didn't see either of them until there were footsteps heavy on the stairs, and he found Juliet coming down with a basket of dirty clothes.

"You're back," she said, obviously. She tried to balance the basket to get a look at her watch. "I thought you'd be later; I...oh, it is late…"

Henry took the basket from her. "What are you doing?" he asked. He carried it back to the laundry room for her, quiet just in case she planned to answer as she followed him, but she didn't have to say anything. He knew. She was doing the same thing Maddie had been doing this morning when he found her.

Anything.

Juliet just looked at him, and Henry sighed. He set the basket down on top of the dryer. "Yeah," he said.

There was quiet for a while, both of them just standing.

"So...Frank…" Henry began.

Juliet out a breath. "Yeah." It was almost a laugh. "I don't know how long he'll stay, but...he's here."

"He and your mother and Lloyd haven't had any knock-down drag outs yet?"

"No, no, they've been fine, actually…"

"Good." He narrowed his eyes at her. "What about you?"

Juliet only shrugged, but he knew what she meant.

"Same here," he agreed.

He hugged her, and he watched her go—watched her wander back into the living room to talk to Maddie and her parents. He hovered between helping to go through everything at the table and joining the group in the living room. It had been some time since he'd seen Lloyd; they had catching up to do.

Henry watched them all, saw them being there. Even after Lassiter, McNab, and Guster and Lauren had left for the night the house was full. Juliet's mother and Lloyd had taken the extra den Shawn and Juliet had turned into a guest room after all. Frank had the couch. Henry didn't want to leave, but there was no room for them. Not really.

Juliet tried to offer him their room. "I've been sleeping with Abi anyway…"

But he couldn't do it, and neither could Maddie. But at least she didn't get a hotel this time. She came home with him.

When they returned the next morning so did everyone else. McNab brought his son back, and Abi and the boy bounded up to her room to play video games. The television in the living room played TV movies with too many commercials, the sound turned low. They'd reached the point that some of them were actually paying attention some of the time, even if only to be distracted.

They were here for each other. That was what counted. Sometimes the conversation even mattered.

Lassiter wasn't there again until evening, and Henry finally gathered he'd never stopped going to work. He shouldn't have been surprised by that—Carlton worked the week after Marlowe died, too, and he was without two of his top teams at the station right now—but for some reason he was surprised anyway.

It took a while to figure out what felt wrong. All of them were hurting. All of them needed, sometimes, not to think, but they all knew why they were here. They knew it was ok, sometimes, just to feel it.

Carlton never stopped moving. All of them did it sometimes, going too fast, but there was never a moment he wasn't. Even when he was there—yesterday, today, that first day—he was in and out, running the errands or helping to complete arrangements. Even when he had more to do than any of them, holding down the fort at the station at the same time.

It was when he was leaving again that night Henry finally flagged him down, out on the sidewalk.

"What are you doing?" he asked. This time he actually wanted an answer.

Carlton didn't quite look at him. "Whatever she needs, Henry." He was angling for his car, shifting uncomfortably, his keys jangling in his hand.

"Look, Carlton, you know you can talk to...me, I guess. Or someone. You know that, right?"

"Sure."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. I'm...fine, Henry. Or...whatever. You know what I mean." Lassiter started to turn away again, but he shifted back. "What about you?" he asked finally.

Henry shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh…"

"At least I'll admit it. And don't look at me like that! Yeah, I'm _well_ aware I wouldn't have said that a few years ago."

"Or a few days ago…"

"That's not the point."

Carlton made a face. "I know."

Henry thought he was getting somewhere, but then Lassiter was turning to leave again and this time he didn't stop. There was movement behind him, and he found Gus at his shoulder.

"I tried while you were gone." He didn't have to elaborate.

"Figures," Henry sighed. "How are _you_ doing?"

"A lot better since Lauren got in yesterday," Gus admitted.

Henry watched Carlton drive away, alone. "Yeah."

* * *

July 9, 2030

Frank left the day before the funeral, which was no different than Juliet had expected. He made an elaborate excuse, as usual. But by then he'd been been with them for three days, and that was something for him.

"You know I'd stay if I didn't have to—"

"It's okay, really….Dad….ok? Thank you for coming," she told him.

And he smiled a little, and took her arms. "You know...I always thought Shawn was a little too much like me...and that wasn't what I wanted for you. But I was wrong. He turned out much better than I did, really, and...I don't think you'd have been happy any other way anyway."

Juliet swallowed the rock in her throat and tried to smile. "Yeah," she managed.

"I'm glad I was wrong. I'm just sorry it...well. Anyway."

"Me, too," she whispered.

She took a step back to let Abi say goodbye to her grandfather, but she stole another embrace before Frank could escape.

"Any time," she said firmly, now that her throat was more clear. "You're still welcome any time; do you hear me?"

He kissed her cheek. "I hear you."

* * *

Carlton picked Lily and Junior up from Tiffany's that evening. With the funeral tomorrow, it was time for both of them to be at home.

He'd been inside the first time he dropped them off this week, so as not to be rude—to let the girl's parents offer what condolences they would. This time he was content to wait outside. He knew would be more polite to go in anyway, but knowing such things had never influenced him before and he certainly wouldn't allow it to now.

Lily knew him. She understood. She came out with Junior and her bag when she got his message and he watched her hug her friend one more time in the doorway before coming to the car. She settled Junior in the back and climbed in beside him.

"Hey."

"Hey…" she trailed. "I haven't heard much from you in, like, two days; are you okay? I said to call me if you needed me."

Carlton shrugged. If he'd done that, he would have called before he got out of the driveway the first time he brought her here a few days ago.

She was watching him. He knew she was. "You could have called," she said again. It was her way of telling him she knew he'd wanted to.

"It's all right. You were more comfortable over here, and I haven't really been home anyway. Too much to get done…"

At least there wasn't any worry over dinner. There was a dish in the floorboard, pushed into his hands by Juliet's mother before he could get out the door when she heard he was picking up Lily. He'd been eating at the station or before he left the other house the rest of the week, while she wasn't home. There was nothing there.

It didn't help that he didn't really want to be there. He doubted Lily did either, and that had to be one of the reasons she'd stayed away.

They would have to get used to it again.

Carlton didn't really think he would sleep, and after dinner Lily stayed up with him for a while. Clint Eastwood movies ran on the television until she convinced him to let her watch _Buffy: The Vampire Slayer_. The original, from '92.

It was Spencer's fault she even knew that movie existed. Once he'd shown her she'd gotten it in her head the main character looked like the pictures she'd seen of her mother, and that was it. It had been her favorite movie ever since, as campy as it was.

"It's the fun kind of stupid, Dad. _Classic_ stupid," Lily had said once, when he complained she watched it too often.

Tonight he didn't complain.

The night he'd picked up Lily from the Spencers when she eight—the night Shawn let her watch it for the first time—Carlton walked in and she was running around the living room with Abi carrying an unsharpened pencil held in the air like a stake and making 'kya' noises when she tried to kick things.

"Spencer, what the hell did you do?"

"Only introduced her to a _classic_ , Lassie. Come on—"

"Daddy!" Lily skidded up to him in her socks and tried several entirely inaccurate martial arts moves. "Buffy is awesome! She kills all the vampires!" She said excitedly. She jumped up and down once or twice. "And she looks like my mom! And Uncle Shawn said my mom was awesome like that too! Just without killing vampires. Cause vampires don't exist."

"What…?" Carlton looked to Spencer for answers.

Shawn sort of shrugged. "Have you never seen that one? Seriously, dude?"

He hadn't. Not then. Very shortly he had, because Lily asked for the movie and made him watch it with her the very first time she watched it at home. And even though he sometimes complained, he'd never been able to object that she liked it in the first place.

He couldn't object to anything that made her think of Marlowe.

Had he ever thanked Spencer for that?

Carlton had to get up before the movie was over. He couldn't anymore. His throat was clogging and his chest was tight and he knew he sounded strange when he told Lily good night. He retreated to his room, but it didn't change the fact that he wasn't going to sleep.

He turned off the lights except for a lamp and he was lying on the made bed staring at the ceiling when he heard Lily come upstairs for bed. He thought she was heading for his door, but then he heard hers close.

The other symptoms had subsided but there was still an ache in his chest—an anxiousness he couldn't put a finger on.

No. That was a lie. He knew the source but he didn't know how to fix it.

Carlton got up when he realized his feet were cold. If he wasn't going to sleep anyway he might as well get up and find a decent pair of socks.

Which might be difficult. He hadn't done any laundry this week. When had he had time?

The sock drawer of his dresser wasn't quite closed. Unlike him, but it wasn't so strange right now. He tried to open the drawer, but it stuck. He tried to push it back in and encountered the same problem.

"Really?" he mumbled. He rattled the jammed drawer, trying to be quiet and still use enough force to shake loose whatever was making it catch. Maybe he wasn't doing it right and maybe he was just tired, but nothing happened.

Maybe he was a little too upset about that. Carlton pushed and pulled harder, and hit the dresser, and even while he was doing it he knew he shouldn't be this frustrated over a drawer. But all he really wanted to do was yell at it but he didn't want to wake Lily and then the drawer came out entirely. He stumbled back from the sudden release and managed to catch it to keep it from hitting the floor too loudly, but he landed on his ass. He cursed and pushed the whole drawer away on the carpet.

He was left sitting there, breathing too hard, staring into the empty space where the drawer had been. The drawer had been a little too full and the offending thing that had been shoved to the back and gotten jammed over the back edge had fallen to the floor at the base of the dresser.

A pair of huge, fuzzy bright green socks with the Psych logo on them.

"The hell…?" he muttered. He still had those?

They were Spencer's fault, of course. One of his big ideas. The year Shawn and Juliet got married it became even harder to find time for their strange little group to find a time to do something together for Christmas _or_ Christmas Eve. Juliet had her family to drag Shawn to. Carlton and Lily had his family. Shawn had his dad. Guster had his parents.

And even if they could find a time what would they do? It was easier before that year. The Christmas before Shawn and Juliet were still living at the house with Carlton and Lily. Most of them were in the same place most of the time anyway.

"Okay!" Spencer had finally declared, sometime in November. "I have got the best idea ever. Seriously. It's gonna be great. Gus agrees."

"I said it wasn't awful."

"You love it, and you know it. Listen…"

They were crowded into the Psych office because Carlton had tried to demand that his office only be used for official police business—operative word being _tried_ , as it would turn out, of course, but anyway...

"Since everybody has stuff planned on Christmas and the day before I think we should just get together at Lassie's place on the day _after_ Christmas, everybody bring food, _and_ ….wait for iiiiitt…" He had one of those stupid grins. "We exchange, get this— _fuzzy socks_."

They'd all just stared at him for a moment.

"Fuzzy socks?" Carlton deadpanned.

"Yes! They're warm, they're soft, they have no style purpose whatsoever! It's perfect."

"I like fuzzy socks," Juliet said sheepishly.

" _Thank_ you," Shawn said.

Guster shrugged. "They are nice."

"See?"

"Whatever, Shawn," Henry said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't worry, Pops, we'll still do our thing."

"With socks?"

"No, with—on a different day! Ok? Come on, people, embrace the genius here."

They'd agreed in the end, and it was still tradition now. They drew names, and apparently Spencer had gotten his that first year. These green logo'ed monstrosities were what Carlton had ended up with.

There had been two pairs, originally. Junior ate one of them years ago, when he'd let Lily wear them around the house. He'd never worn them himself.

Carlton tossed the green socks on the bed and got back to his feet to put the drawer back into the dresser. By the time he'd done that and dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, his throat was clogging again.

 _Lassie, stuff...happens. If anybody knows that we do._

"Damnit, Spencer…"

He put the stupid socks on and padded downstairs and out the front door to the porch and the fresh air. Somewhere he could breathe. He didn't bother with the porch light.

 _I….I got lucky, didn't I? Lassie...if I hadn't...if...someday I don't…Jules and Abi…._

What the hell was he doing?

He didn't have time to answer his own question. There was movement out on the sidewalk a little ways down and in the dark it took him a moment to realize it was someone walking. But who would be walking out here at one in the morning?

Turning on the porch light came him enough light to make on the form approaching the house, and he should have known it would be Juliet. He wasn't happy she'd _walked_ here at this hour, but still...he should have known.

She looked up when the light came on, and picked up her pace. She pulled open the gate to come up the path to the house and Carlton hurried down the steps to meet her halfway.

"What are you doing out he—"

He cut off when she latched onto him.

"Juliet?" he asked after a moment. He was holding on, but he didn't know what else to do.

"I don't need your help," she said finally. She didn't look up and it burst out of her as if she'd been trying not to say it.

Carlton blinked over her head as as he held her under his chin. "What?"

"I-I mean I appreciate everything you've done—everything you're doing—but I don't need your _help_ ," she repeated. She sobbed once, dryly. "I just need you, ok?"

"I…" He tried to answer, but it stuck in his throat.

"I just need you," Juliet said again.

"I'm sorry…" he managed.

"It's not your fault."

"I know."

"It's _not_ …"

"I _know_. I know. I'm sorry." And finally, finally, he felt it. He knew what Guster and Henry had been trying to say, and he felt it.

"I need you," she said, one more time. It was quieter now.

He needed her, too. "I'm sorry, Juliet. I'm so sorry…"

She wasn't quite crying, but Carlton was afraid he was going to. Instinct made him try to pull away, but she just held onto him tighter, there in the yard. She wouldn't let him go, and he couldn't stop saying he was sorry, and she told him it was all right the way she had so many years ago now.

Then maybe they were both sort of crying, there in the dim light from the porch. But the knot in Carlton's chest was gone.


	24. Chapter 24

This turned out to be the last chapter, which I wasn't exactly sure of before. Short and sweet felt more right here. Once I finish my other Psych fic, "Of The Heart," though, there is a sequel idea I might be able to get to. But this is sadly the end of this story. I've enjoyed writing this and exploring these characters and getting to share it with all of you. I can't wait to hear from you, and thank you so much for making my first experience writing in the Psych fandom awesome!

Chapter 24

July 10, 2030

"Lily? Lily!"

Unlike sixteen years ago, the house that had once been Henry Spencer's was dim and empty this time. The funeral reception was at the house on the corner and this place felt too quiet.

Carlton left to find his daughter, after Abi told him she wasn't there.

"Go on," Juliet told him. "I'll be fine here." And for the first time all week he'd believed her.

For the first time all week he might be able to say truthfully that _he_ was all right. Or getting closer, at the least.

When he made it home the doors were all locked tight again, but somehow he still knew Lily was there. He found Junior whining at the bottom of the stairs and called her name again, but there was no answer.

Carlton sighed and looked down at the dog, who looked up at him and whined again.

"She's up there?"

Junior made a low sound and looked at the stairs.

"I thought so."

The door to Lily's bedroom was closed, but when he opened it there was no one there. The bed was even made.

"Lily?" he called again.

A faint 'in here' led him to the guest room. Lily was curled up on the bed in her black dress from the service, hugging a pillow, and the crumpled sheets at the foot of the bed and her bag from Tiffany's on the floor told him she'd slept here last night. It wasn't _her_ bedroom door he'd heard closing.

Carlton lowered himself onto the edge of the bed and waited. She would know he'd seen everything, and she would know what he wanted to ask.

"I don't know if I _don't_ want to be in my room right now because it was Uncle Shawn's when he was a kid or if I _do_ want to be in here because he and Aunt Juliet lived here for a while and I kind of remember that."

Carlton raised an eyebrow. "You weren't even two when they moved out."

"I didn't say I remember a _lot_ …"

Lily made a face and sat up slowly, still clutching the pillow to her chest.

"It's just...flashes. More the _feeling_ they were here than anything, I guess. More than hearing about it later. But I mean they _lived_ here; maybe that's why it's always so hard to believe the way you and Uncle Shawn always acted actually used to be like...like you actually used to hate each other, I mean. Way before I was born. That never made sense to me, even though Aunt Juliet insisted you didn't make that up. I thought it was just the way some friends were."

Carlton shrugged once, and something stuck in his throat. "I guess it was, for us. But don't think it ever made sense to me either…"

Lily laughed weakly, but it dissolved into a sob.

"Lily?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry…" She looked the way he'd felt last night. The way he'd felt all week. And even though she was sixteen and that she'd been running away hadn't surprised him, suddenly it all made so much more sense.

He reached out to pull her to him, but she shied away against the headboard. "For what?" he asked. He still wanted to believe maybe it was something else.

"For...he's...gone, and-and it's my _fault_ , and—"

Damnit. "It's not. I _told_ you it's not."

"But I...I...he was after _me_ —"

"To get at _me_ , and it's...that's not my fault, either." This time when he held out an arm she came to him. She cried a little more, and his shirt was still a bit damp from holding Juliet on the bathroom floor but it didn't matter.

"But I'm the one who wanted to be nice to Uncle Adrian," Lily said eventually. "I'm the one who wanted to talk to him. He wouldn't have even known where we lived if I hadn't."

"He would have found out somehow, if he wanted to know. He made his choice, Lily, and that had nothing to do with you. What's important…"

He had to stop and take a deep breath before he could go on. He started to say it before he knew he was going to and then he couldn't _not_. But he had to take a moment.

"Dad?"

 _It's okay, Lassie…_

"What's important," he repeated quietly, "is that your Uncle Shawn made a choice, too. He did what he did because he loved you, Lily."

"I know that…"

"He wanted you safe. He was...he knew what could happen."

And for the first time, Carlton let himself realize that it wasn't only how much Spencer cared about Lily that made him do what he did.

Lily squeezed him a little harder. "He loved you too, you know."

His eyes closed. "I know."

After that they sat for a while, until Carlton was able to laugh a little. "You're too much like me," he said. "I thought I told you I wanted you to turn out _better_."

"What are you talking about?" Lily grumbled.

"Blaming yourself when you shouldn't...running away. That was my game this week. I was there, but I doing too much. I wasn't just...there. I should have been."

Lily sat back to look at him. "I woke up when you went downstairs last night. I saw you and Aunt Juliet outside."

Carlton let out a breath. "Yeah."

"I knew what it was. I knew I was doing it too, but I still felt...a-and I didn't how to fix it. I don't know." Lily swallowed. "Still, after that I was...I was gonna try to talk to Abi today, but we got to the service and I just—I couldn't. I didn't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," a voice said from the doorway.

They both looked up.

"Abi? Does your mother know you're over here?" Carlton asked.

The younger girl nodded. "She came with me. She's downstairs."

Lily moved first, and the girls met in the middle. Carlton got up to inch around them as they hugged. He didn't want to disturb them.

"I'm sorry," Lily was saying.

"You're an idiot," Abi answered. "I love you, ok?"

Yeah. Too much like him, maybe. They were both too much like their fathers. But maybe that wasn't entirely a bad thing.

* * *

Juliet waited in the living room, and once Abi had disappeared upstairs Junior followed her there and flopped down on her feet. She leaned over from her seat on the couch to scratch the dog's ears, and was glad for the break from the funeral.

Not that she'd been back out in it for long before Abi insisted on coming over here, but she wasn't going to complain.

She stood when there were footsteps on the stairs, and it was Carlton. He sort of smiled when he saw her.

"Lily's all right?" she asked.

He shrugged as he came to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. "I think they'll both be all right. They have each other."

She had to smile at that. Just a little. Because he was right.

"Should we go back?" she asked.

"I suppose we have to. Seeing as we're the adults," he said. He was making a face.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"For once, I might."

Juliet laughed. She wanted to cry, too, but that was ok.

Because Shawn wasn't gone.

* * *

June 2014

The steps of the Santa Barbara Police Department looked the same as they always had, but the morning Carlton came back to work Juliet thought something felt different.

She climbed from the car after Lassiter, and in the next parking spot Shawn and Gus unfolded from her personal car. The four of them drifted to the bottom of the steps and seemed to just stop there.

"We need to get this over with quick," Gus said. "I love you guys, but I have an interview."

" _This_? This what?" Juliet questioned.

"The go-team moment."

"Is that what we're doing?" Carlton asked dryly.

Shawn looked at him as if he should know. "Dude, Lassie, it's your first day back and we're all just kind of standing here staring at the front door waiting on you to make the first move. Classic go-team moment if I ever saw one."

Juliet had to give him that. "He's not wrong."

"Oh, would you three stop it!" Carlton protested. He shook his head. "Come on, O'Hara; we have a station to run."

With that Lassiter started up the concrete steps.

Shawn smirked. "Aaand….moment's over."

"It's Lassie; what'd you expect?" Gus pointed out.

Juliet gave them a knowing smile and followed Carlton inside. Shawn and Gus were on her heels.

There was no gathering inside waiting—no obvious welcome back. When McNab asked Friday Juliet had told him to make sure it didn't happen. That wasn't what someone like Carlton would need or want right now. Instead there was the occasional 'Good to see you, Chief' here or a 'How are you, Chief?' there. Lassiter made it to his office without serious incident and Juliet let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Two weeks. She'd had to fight to get him to take that much, but he took two weeks. Now she was glad she hadn't backed down.

Carlton disappeared into his office, but he was out in the bullpen again seconds later.

"Where are my files!" he called. "Dobson! I need the file on the McKinney case! McNab! Where are my write-ups? I'm supposed to have all catch-up material on my desk already!"

McNab popped up from behind his desk. "On it, Chief!"

By the time Carlton turned around Juliet, Shawn, and Gus were waiting beside his door. Juliet couldn't help smiling, Gus had an eyebrow up, and Shawn was bouncing on his toes like he did and grinning expectantly.

"What?" Carlton asked. He zeroed in on Shawn and rolled his eyes. "Spencer, if you want a case come back this afternoon. Maybe I can dig something up."

"Sure thing, dude!" Shawn looked sideways at Gus. "Come back after your thing?"

"You know that's right." Gus held up a fist for Shawn to bump before he retreated for his interview.

"You're not going with him?" Juliet asked.

"Jules, it's an _interview._ I can't go with him."

"I wouldn't have put it past you."

Shawn opened his mouth to protest, probably, but then he shrugged. "That's fair."

Lassiter was shaking his head at them again as he spun back into his office, but Juliet saw him smile.

Juliet saw him realize the same thing she had, two months ago in San Francisco.

Through the blinds of his windows, with Shawn off to bug McNab and Gus halfway out the door, she was the only one who saw Carlton pause in the middle of his office and glance back at where they'd all stood seconds ago. The smile was still here, tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She saw Carlton have the moment he knew it would always be the four of them, somehow, no matter where they went from here.

* * *

March 2032

"Carlton! Dobson and McNab can hold down the fort for a _week_. We have to go. What part of your-sister-is-in-labour do you not understand? Come on!"

Juliet was standing at the end of the bullpen at the SBPD, angling for the doors, waiting for Lassiter to finish his rapid-fire list of reminders to Dobson. But if he didn't hurry they were going to miss their plane.

They'd planned to use the girls' spring break this year to visit Gus and Lauren in New York anyway, but they thought it would be a little too early to see the baby. Now the baby was coming a little early. Everything was fine so far, but they wanted to get there.

Juliet hurried back over to the group in Carlton's office doorway just as Dobson and McNab broke off. Carlton had his briefcase in his hand as he tried to lock his office, but Juliet snatched it from him, dropped it inside the door, and locked it for him.

"You're not bringing that," she said firmly.

Carlton open his mouth to protest, but then he didn't. "Fair enough."

Usually he wasn't so bad about the working so much. Not anymore. Not in a long time. Not since he got married, really. But he cared about his station, which was fine, and no one was perfect anyway. Sometimes he relapsed. Maybe this time it had something to do with the fact that Lily was graduating from high school in two months.

But he would figure out what he was doing. He always did. Until he did he had her, to keep him from falling into the worst of it, and when Lily had left for college Juliet would still be here. The way Carlton had been there after Shawn died—once he'd figured it out then. The way they'd been doing this for each other for 25 years.

Juliet followed him out to his car, where Lily and Abi were already squirreled away in the back seat and their luggage for the week was in the trunk. Carlton and Lily had picked them up earlier this morning so there would only be one car left in airport parking while they were gone.

On the plane they sat across the aisle from the girls, to give them some privacy. They needed all the time together they could get anyway, before August.

Carlton finally said something. Or he tried to. He was watching them giggling—probably at something that would make no sense to anyone else—and then he looked back to her.

"It's just…" He didn't seem to know how to finish that.

Juliet looped her arm through his. "Yeah."

"It's like Spencer and Guster: The Next Generation," he'd said once, years ago.

"Spencer and Lassiter this time," Juliet had reminded him.

He'd made a face. "I know. I don't know how I feel about that."

That, of course, was when Shawn butted in. "Feel that it's _awesome_ , Lassie. Obviously."

Now Juliet smiled at Carlton, and he let out a breath and shifted in his seat. "They'll be fine," she reminded him. "Lily's not going far."

"You're right…"

The rest of the flight and making it to the hotel and then to the hospital was more of a tired, jet-lagged blur than anything.

Later, the only things that would really be clear were Gus grinning, and the moment Carlton handed her his nephew. He was beautiful.

Gus was still grinning, but it was different now, and he was squeezing Lauren's hand. Juliet and Carlton looked back at them strangely, and she should have known what they were going to say. When Gus said it, Juliet felt as if she'd always known.

"We already talked to Henry...his name is Shawn."

Juliet let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her vision blurred a little as she looked down the baby in her arms, but she was smiling and it felt…

"Right."


End file.
